The Past Remains
by Emalia Jinx
Summary: EDITED! Two years after the final battle, and now in their 20s, the survivors of the War must face their past in order to forge a hopeful future. Romanticdramedy of sorts, featuring RH, HG. Tell me what you think! RR! EVERYONE please read and review!
1. The Muggle Life

Chapter 1: The Muggle Life

"Maybe Hermione was right. Maybe it is easier." He took a sip of his espresso and put down the muggle newspaper he was reading,

Harry glanced over the top of his glasses at Ron with his eyebrows raised in surprise. When did Ron ever admit that Hermione was right? Espeically about this?

Ron took a bite of his muffin and looked out the window of the café, watching the muggles walk the busy streets of London. He seemed almost deep in thought. "I never wanted to admit that she could be right about that because it just seemed so preposterous. I've been a wizard my entire life, as opposed to you or her or Dean, so the thought of it seemed scandalous. But now…now it makes sense." He looked Harry in the eye. "I kinda like it."

Harry smiled. He knew that for Ron to admit that Hermione was right about anything used to be like Snape smiling – a very rare occurance. But it also amused him that Ron had conceded about _this. _

"Well its not like we're living on a deserted island without magic. We're just living like muggles, without as much magic."

"I know, it just seems weird to me that I would, could, like it, ya know? I was never as into muggles as my father or Ginny was. I thought they were rather silly. But…" he took another sip of his coffee, "but, its not that different. They have their magic too. Ours is natural and theirs is man made. Like this." He pulled out his cell phone. "Now _this_, this is magical. Call anyone you want whenever you want, without having to be around a fireplace, or needing an owl or one of those little two way mirrors. Its just brilliant."

Harry laughed. "I remember the day Ginny convinced you to get one. You were like kid with a new toy. Ginny was so embarrassed to be in the store with you. she - " Harry started to laugh again remembering Ron's reaction to the dozens of different ring sounds, and the look on Ginny's face when Ron started going on about the 'amazing advances in muggle technology' when he got to choose which color phone cover he wanted. " – she turned redder than her hair. Her eyes got so big…she…" he couldn't stop laughing. It seemed that nowadays even the slightest things amused Harry. Though Ron was glad Harry had once again found humor in life, he was not enjoying this particular moment. He just glared blankly at his laughing friend.

"And your face…it was - "

"I think I get it. _Anyway_, what I was saying - " But at that moment his cell phone started playing the 1812 Overture, causing Ron to jump slightly and sending Harry into another fit of giggles.

Ron rolled his eyes and answered his cell. " 'Ello?….Uh huh…..Yeah sure…..No, he's right here. He's just _fine_…..no…ok. Yep. We'll be right over."

He flipped his phone shut and slid it back into his pocket, eyeing his raven-haired buddy across the table with narrow eyes. "You better watch it, mate."

"Why?"

"That was Ginny." He watched Harry's mouth twitch before settling into a calm, thin line. "She wants to show us something at Mum's. She found something in the attic."

The young men stood from their table, leaving a small tip, and walked out of the café. "To cab or not to cab" said Harry thoughtfully.

"Not to cab. Lets apparate. She sounded excited." They turned a corner to an empty alleyway and disappeared.

* * *

Hermione opened her eyes slowly. It was nearly 10 o'clock and she was uncharacteristically still in bed. Pushing the covers reluctantly off her body, Hermione lifted herself out of bed and into a standing position. _I've got to stop going to bed so late_, she thought. Rubbing her eyes and face, she walked into her bathroom and turned on the shower. But before she could even get undressed, her doorbell rang.

_Bugger, who wants to see me this early in the morning?_ On her way to the door she glanced at the clock, now reading 10:04, and reminded herself that it wasn't that early. She flung open the door to find her neighbor, Elise, standing in jeans and a t-shirt excitedly holding the newspaper in Hermione's face.

"Hermione! Look! They published my article! I'm a real reporter now! I can't believe they published my article!"

After congratulating her friend and promising to call her later, Hermione shut the door and wearily made it back to the bathroom. She shut off the water, not in the mood for a shower. She wasn't that dirty anyway. ;-) She walked back into her small, but excessively neat, bedroom and stretched. She was obviously still in her pajamas – a black tank top and red and black plaid men's boxer shorts. She looked at herself in the mirror with scrutinizing eyes. In the years following the War, Hermione had put on a little weight. Not enough to be considered overweight, but enough to give her more shape, some curves – she could even be described as voluptuous. Her face had become fuller, her breasts bigger, and her bottom rounder. She sighed as she took off her PJs so she could change. She was not entirely happy with her appearance. For so many years of living on sugar-free food, she had started at Hogwarts a scrawny girl with hair that should have weighted her head backwards. Then while at Hogwarts, she had grown upwards, but not so much out – she was constantly skipping meals to study in the library, and the amount of stress she was in those last years under often took an unhealthy toll on her form. But now, nearly 21 years old, Hermione was eating regularly, enjoying her peaceful, relatively stress-free life and her body was living proof of her changed lifestyle.

Her body didn't bother her as much as her hair. Still big, still brown, still boring as ever. Or so she thought. Hermione's hair had matured just as she had over the years. Its bushiness had decreased (minimally) and she found that with certain charms or even muggle conditioners, she could tame it to a manageable volume.

Sighing again, she turned away from the mirror and put on clean clothes. She had to be at work by 11:00 and she wanted to eat breakfast before she left. Just as she was jumping into her jeans, the telephone rang.

"Hello? Yes, Mrs. Murphey…..I'll be able to tutor Anna tonight…yes, after class….no I'm on my way to work right now, I don't have class till 5….it's no problem Mrs. Murphey. I'm happy to do it….buh-bye." _Of course I'm happy to do it, its $20 an hour…_

She quickly converted $20 to Galleons, smiling to herself that she was still able to do it, especially since it was harder to convert American currency to wizard money as opposed to British currency.

But that made her think of England and London and – but she stopped herself before she got that far.

She'd moved to Salem after the War because she needed a change. Desperately. She didn't care that no one understood or agreed with her. She did what she felt was right at the time. She grabbed a muffin on her way out the door as she recalled the day she revealed that she was leaving ….

"_You're doing what!" Ron shouted._

"_Going to Salem. I know that –"_

"_Going to Salem? Why? Are you mad? Why would you even think of leaving?"_

"_I've been thinking about it for a long time, Ron, please understand, I need – "_

"_Understand? You want me to understand why you are leaving? LEAVING? Going hundreds of miles away, just like that! How do you expect me to understand – "_

"But you have to."

"_I can't."_

"_You can't or you won't?" she shot scathingly back at him. _

He glared at her, red in the face, his hair on end. Her eyes began to sting as she felt his bore into her face. Tears were streaming down her face as she pleadingly looked at him. His face softened a bit as tears welled in his eyes, but he turned away from her, sending a wave of pain through her heart. She picked up her suitcase and walked out his apartment door…

Hermione pushed the memory from her mind as she approached the bookstore. She didn't work long on Saturdays because of her 5 o'clock class, but she worked none-the-less. Money doesn't grow on trees, but for someone as smart and talented as Hermione, there should have been a better way of earning it than working at the local bookstore.


	2. At the Burrow

Chapter 2: At the Burrow

The boys arrived at the Burrow, apparating into what they thought was the kitchen but what now looked like a children's toy factory gone mad. Half-chicken-half-wands lay strewn about all over the floor; fuzzy balls of colored fur were bouncing randomly around the room; pots were boiling on the stove, bubbles were floating about the room, several dozen miniature wizard figurines were chattering on the table. It was noisy and busy, but this noise and racket seems even out of the ordinary for a Weasley household. Harry looked around in amusement and wonder. Glancing at the ceiling he noticed several talking balloons attached to strings, trying to get away from one another. He squinted as he tried to discern the sloshing sounds one of them was making. He took his wand and poked one of the balloons gently –

SLPOSH!

Ron jumped away from the wet body next to him, shocked. Harry stood there, drenched from head to toe, his eyes closed and facial expression saying, 'I shoulda known better'. Ron started to laugh just as he heard the sounds of his older brothers galumphing down the stairs. They skidded into the kitchen, and at the sight of Harry doubled up in laughter. Harry was now picking a small goldfish out of his hair.

"Sorry Harry! Those are our temporarily named "Fish in a Balloon". We haven't quite decided what to do with those yet."

"Well I think Harry has found a practical use for them – quick, late-morning shower. It can't hurt – I bet you even smell pretty now, don't ya Harry?"

Harry smiled. "Yeah, I do smell a distinctly fruity smell - ", he sniffed the air and then licked a droplet of water from his lip. "Mmmm! Strawberry!" He laughed and magicked himself dry.

Ron shook his head in amusement and said, "Since when did Mum allow you to work _here_?"

"Ever since Katie kicked me outta her place." George grimaced slightly, but recovered. "No, seriously, after our store suffered that unfortunate fire - " (Ron and Harry exchanged looks), " – and after we almost destroyed Katie's back porch, Katie said she didn't want any more dangerous stunts around her or Elizabeth and that we could take our tricks elsewhere, so - "

Harry frowned. He felt so outta the loop. He'd been away from the Burrow for so long, he didn't even know who Elizabeth was. "Do you have a child all of a sudden George?"

George looked confused. "What? Oh, no. Elizabeth is Katie's 4 year old niece. She's been living with us since her sister and brother-in-law were killed." His eyes had a trace of sadness that had found its place there only recently. "Anyway, Mum said until the store and lab are fixed, we could work here." He imitated his mother's voice and shaking finger, "This is only _temporary_ you understand me? _Temporary! _No more than a _month! _ And if I come home finding anything blown up or burnt to the ground, I'll kick you out to live with the gnomes!" They all laughed, imagining the twins burrowing holes in the ground with the nasty little creatures.

Just then a voice rang down the stairs. "Who's there? Helloooooo? Are you coming back?" Ginny too came hurrying down the stairs and when she emerged into the kitchen, dust-covered and wearing ratty old muggle clothes, Harry's stomach lurched. They both had changed dramatically during those last two years of school, and the War. She'd grown more confident, out-spoken, but also more casual and friendly. She'd outgrown her infatuated schoolgirl days so that any feelings for Harry had either become merely platonic or just very well masked. Harry had become quieter, less willing to talk about the ongoing events with anyone, until that night by the fire when he'd found comfort in her eyes and smile…

_"Harry, just know that I'm here for you. Whenever you need to talk. Or just sit. Or wrestle."_

_His head snapped up and he looked at her face. Her lips were smiling a little, but her eyes were twinkling – not with a dare or challenge as they often did, but with a promise…  
_

Even after their brief relationship, Ginny had always remained close to Harry, despite his warnings of being too close. He had broken up with her during his 6th year to protect her, but as Ginny would often tell him, she didn't need protecting. Why they hadn't gotten back together after it was all over was still a mystery to Harry, and whenever he saw her, his stomach still flipflopped like it did at Hogwarts.

Ginny had definitely inherited the Weasley sense of humor as well as the Weasley charm, ambition and indeed the Weasley looks. Harry noted that even wearing old, torn up jeans and a stained button up shirt, she still managed to look pretty. No, beautiful. No, radiant... No, -

"Well you finally got here!" She put her hands on her hips emulating her mother's classic stance. "Well hurry up. Come upstairs with me."

Ron and Harry followed Ginny up the winding and uneven stairs to the room where the ghoul with chains lived. The attic was full of boxes and bags and suitcases and more boxes, full to the brim with family history. Toys from their youth, old family photo albums, boxes of love letters between Arthur and Molly, Ginny's old books, Ron's old comics, Percy's old glasses, Charlie's old plush dragon doll…Harry concluded that Mrs. Weasley was a packrat and he smiled to himself imagining his aunt Petunia's face had she walked in on what she would be sure to call a pile of 'old, useless junk'. But Harry liked the feeling. There was so much history in this room. I _I bet Ginny is having a ball going through it all,_ /I he thought almost enviously.

"I've been up here for two solid days just going through box after box. Mum's been asking that _someone_ clean up this place for years. So I finally decided that no one else would do it, and I have the time, so why not! It's been loads of fun. Look at this."

She handed Ron a small chestnut colored jewelry box that in the top left corner had "M. L. R." engraved. Ron ran his finger over the engraving, muttering, "Molly Louise Richards…"

"Look inside." Ginny undid the lock and lifted open the top. There wasn't much inside the dusty box but a few folded pieces of parchment and a small picture. Ron picked up the black and white picture and laughed. It was of his father, long before he lost his hair, and his mum, long before she'd had 7 children. They were standing in the snow by an ice-covered lake and Arthur had a pile of snow in his face. Molly was laughing and he wiped away the snow, a wicked twinkle in his eye that reminded Ron of his prankster brothers. Molly was now practically on the ground laughing and Arthur strode over to her, dumping a pile of snow on her head. Ron put the photo back in the box. "Who knew they had cameras back then."

Ginny snorted, taking the box back from him, and handed a small black book to him. He opened it and inside found Bill's messy scrawl. It was a diary of sorts, from when he was still in Hogwarts. Ron read aloud:

"I can't believe it! She won't even look my way. Why is she playing so damn hard-to-get? All the other girls practically fall over my feet, but no, not Miss-I'm-the-Ravenclaw-captain-therefore-I'm-better-than-you. Goddammit. That look she gave me…I know she wants me. She just won't admit it.. Well I'll show her!"

Ron laughed. "Is he talking about Maggie? Maggie Fletcher?"

"I assume so. She's the only girl, other than Fleur that's ever given him a run for his money." She took the book from Ron. "I figured we'd save this for the next time we had a big family dinner. It could be fun to pull a Gred & Forge and quote freely from his 'little black book'."

They laughed and sat down on the floor. Ginny handed them object after object, surprised that they remained so rapt. But the boys found it interesting, especially Harry who clung to dearly to anything family related. He envied big, strong families like the Weasleys. He saw them as a worn but beautiful homemade quilt constructed of the most precious pieces of silk and satin; his family, whom for so long he only considered to be Sirius and Remus, was like a ragged quilt of rags and random pieces of cloth sewn together by sadness, tragedy, mystery and magic. This was the reason that Harry loved being with the Weasleys – they considered him part of the family and he finally felt like part of it.

Laughing at the older Weasleys and remembering their years at Hogwarts, they spent the next 2 hours going through the stuff Ginny had set aside including some boxes she had yet to venture into.

"Man, I bet Percy would be so upset if he knew we had this. I can't believe your mum caught him doing this!" Harry was practically rolling on the floor in tears at the sight of Percy wearing Mrs. Weasley's nightdress and lipstick all over his face.

Ginny reached into the box next to her, then suddenly turned to Ron and asked, "How long has it been since you've seen Hermione?"

He froze. He wasn't expecting that. He continued to thumb through the book he was looking at while he thought, and then answered, "Um…I think it's been…well last Christmas, so what's that? 9 months or so?" His face had suddenly flushed and Harry was looking at him with a curious expression.

Ginny pulled out an old red notebook with an ink stain on the front and held it caringly in her hands. "Well, then maybe its time you called her up."

Ron looked up at his sister suspiciously. "Why?"

She handed him the book. "I just think it would be a good idea." She stood up and brushed her jeans off. "Anyway, I'm hungry. I'm going downstairs. Harry, can I get you anything?"

Harry stood up too. "No, I'll come with you and get it myself." They walked to the door of the attic. Ginny glanced back at Ron who had opened the notebook and seemed not to notice the pair of them leaving. She sighed, hoping that that book might knock some sense into her brother, and followed Harry downstairs.


	3. Forgotten

Chapter 3: Forgotten

Hermione left work at four. She put on her sunglasses and pulled her hair back into a ponytail. She stood outside, leaning up against a pole, waiting.

She didn't own a car. First of all they were too expensive (insurance, maintenance, gas…). Secondly, in Salem there was really no need for it. Most of the places of interest were within walking distance; she had a bike. She could ride the bus if she so desired. Or wait for her roommate to pick her up.

She lived with Christine, her old witch pen pal from her days at Hogwarts. Christine was muggle-born as well, and for some reason, the muggle-borns in America seemed to hold on to their muggle roots more so than European witches and wizards.

"I lived a muggle life for 11 years, and return to that lifestyle every summer and then all of sudden they expect me to just give it up just because I have magical powers? Noperoo. Not me. I'm not giving up classic rock and roll or Super Mario Brothers or Adam Sandler movies just because I can transfigure porcupines into pineapples. I'll just take the best of both worlds and live the life I want!" Hermione smiled to herself as she remembered one of the many speeches Christine gave her about maintaining her muggle heritage. What she said made sense; she had just never paid much attention to it until after the War. While the battle against Voldemort was a worldwide event, most of the actual fighting, torturing and devastation occurred in Europe – mainly Britain considering that's where the Boy Who Lived and Almost Died More Than Once lived. So other witches and wizards around the world, in Asia, America, Africa, though affected by the turmoil inflicted on their kind by Evil were not as damaged emotionally or physically by the War as the ones who were fighting.

So after her magical studies at the Salem Institute of Wizardry, Christine forged some official high school documents, applied to Salem State College so that she could, if she wanted, get a muggle job one day. When Hermione had discovered this, she thought her friend was nutters. Until she thought about it. Wizards cant fight evil their entire lives, especially once its been destroyed. And after going through what Hermione and her peers suffered, some of them needed a change. Hermione was one of those individuals. Not long after the War was over, Hermione packed her bags and, as it seemed to some, fled to Salem where she also applied to Salem State College. Living with Christine and attending a muggle college was an eye-opening and life-altering experience for Hermione. Though she loved every minute of her new life, she still missed the days that she was part of the Dream Team…

_"So light a fire!" Harry choked.  
"Yes...of course...but there's no wood!" Hermione cried wringing her hands.  
"HAVE YOU GONE MAD!" Ron bellowed, "ARE YOU A WITCH OR NOT!"_

She snapped out of reverie when she heard the distinct _beep-beep_ of Christine's ancient baby blue Volkswagen bug. "Hey, Hermione! Come on! Let's go!" Christine and Hermione rode in comfortable silence, listening to the local alternative rock station until they reached the campus. Christine pulled up to the curb, and as Hermione got out, Christine leaned over and said, "If you think about him so much, why don't you just call him?" and gave her a knowing look when she drove off.

Hermione huffed and walked to class. What right did Christine have to say that? She doesn't know that I was thinking about him! How could she know that I was thinking about him?

_Wait…I was thinking about him? _

Hermione stopped abruptly astonished that Christine could know her better than she knew herself. How could she be thinking about him? He was part of the past she had tried so hard to forget. But obviously she couldn't forget about him completely, she wouldn't. He meant too much to her; they all did. She just needed some distance…

"Hey, Hermione? What's up?" a very good-looking young man with blonde hair had stopped next to Hermione.

She snapped back to reality. "Oh, hello Kevin. How are you?"

"I'm doing just great. But you look a little out of it. On your way to class?"

"Yeah…I was just…I thought I'd forgotten something, but as it turns out I haven't." she smiled to show him there was nothing to worry about.

"Well in that case, would you mind if I walked you to class?" he smiled that dazzling, movie star smile and held out his arm.

She smiled back at him and linked arms with him, allowing him to lead her to class.

Ron slowly turned to the first page of the red notebook that Ginny had thrown into his lap. _Could it be?_ Slowly, almost hesitantly he looked down at the tiny, perfect cursive handwriting. Yep. It was hers. But from how long ago? And what exactly was it? Was this that little book she carried around almost everywhere she went in 7th year? He glanced at the date and almost cringed. It was.

But how? Why did Ginny have it?

But then he remembered. That summer, following 7th year, following the bloody deaths of her parents, Hermione had moved in permanently with the Weasleys. She felt safe nowhere else, and Ginny's room became home for her. He remembered seeing her sitting on the floor in the corner of his sister's room more than once scribbling furiously into that notebook. He'd always been so curious to see what was written in it, but had never asked. He didn't want Hermione to think that he was nosy.

But here it was. In his hands. Ginny had just turned it over to him. Was there something in it that he should read? Something he _shouldn't_ read? He'd been dying to know, and now was his chance…but he felt guilty.

However, his guilt did not outweigh his curiosity, and he started to read the first page:

_Well, it's the beginning of another school year. I feel silly writing in a diary like a little girl, but I need to do something. I need some place where I can say what I feel and not hide it; its not like I have a pensieve. Though I think we all could use one._

_This last year has been horrific. So many things have happened. So many terrible, terrible things. And no one is taking any action against them. The people who are willing to take action don't have the needed support because people are too scared or just stupid. _(Ron laughed at that thinking of Hermione's hatred of Fudge)._ The people that are willing to help are either in exile or MIA or not powerful enough to do what needs to be done…._

_I'm so scared. I really am. I try to put on a strong face, focus on school, keep a calm exterior and maintain a sense of humor but…but its so hard. _

_It's hard. And I'm scared. _

_But I am glad to be back at Hogwarts. At least I feel a little safer here…_

Ron flipped ahead a few pages:

_I hate it. I hate it all. I can't stand watching my best friend fall apart. I know Ron has to see more of it than I do, and I know Harry must be suffering so much more than he lets on….if only he would talk to us. Its like he's taken a vow of silence about all things related to You Know Who Voldemort. Its like he's trying to protect us. But honestly – who's going to protect him? _

Ron stopped reading for a moment. This was amazing. Getting to see what she was thinking at that time. It was practically the same things he had been feeling. Why hadn't they talked more? Why had everyone just stopped talking?

Flipping ahead a few more pages, a few words caught Ron's eye:

_I love him. _

Ron froze. For a minute, he figured it must be Krum, but then remembered that by that time Krum was dead. Then it must be Harry, but then he remembered what she once said about Harry ("Ron that's just gross. Harry is like my brother.) So he kept reading:

_I love him. I love him so much that sometimes it hurts. I want to tell him. But I cant. It just wouldn't be right. Not right now. There are too many other things going on, too many people to worry about. I don't want to complicate matters. _

_But I see him sitting over there, running his hands through his hair, dark circles growing under his eyes and I just want to run over to him, hug him and cry, let him know that I'm feeling the same things he is. That I'm scared too. That I'm worried and terrified and nervous and stressed and utterly clueless as to what to do next. But I wont. I cant. I should. But I wont. _

Ron was totally absorbed in her words. He couldn't believe his eyes. His heart had started beating faster. Somehow he'd known. He'd always known. And then he remembered that night in the park.

"_Oh Ron, this is so wrong. Not now."_

"_I know, Mione. We cant. I know."_

He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. Thinking about her hurt. He hadn't seen her in forever. He wrote to her every week practically, and she'd respond fairly regularly. Hermione was always good at keeping in touch via mail. She did after all have plenty of practice with that pen friend while she was at Hogwarts…_what was her name? Christine? Yes, and I do believe she's living with her now. _

How he wondered what she looked like since last time he'd seen her. It was at Christmas time the previous year. Her hair was the same, that much he remembered. Her hair had never changed, and he had never stopped loving it. But aside from that, he couldn't remember anything else about her. It was if she were fading from his memory. Not a good thing.

He opened his eyes and the book again, and resumed reading. He remained up there the rest of the afternoon, entranced by Hermione's forgotten words…


	4. The Youngest Weasley

Chapter 4: The Youngest Weasley

Downstairs, Ginny and Harry enjoyed a hearty lunch. They talked and laughed and tried to stay out of the way as the twins bustled around in the kitchen concocting god knows what. Harry, still trying to hide his feelings for some unknown reason, loved every minute he spent with Ginerva Weasley and hated that he didn't get to do it more often.

But she was often traveling, living either in her apartment in Paris or her flat in London or her cousin's house in Dublin. She even visited a friend in New York periodically and it was during those trips that she would take time to go to Salem and visit with Hermione, even if it was only for a day.

Harry loved listening to Ginny's stories. She met so many interesting people during her travels – wizards and muggles – and it was these people that inspired her first few successful novels.

That's right. Ms.Ginerva Weasley had become a writer. And a very popular one at that – in both muggle and wizarding worlds. After having grown to love and adore muggles and their lifestyles as much as her father, and testing the highest out of any previous Hogwarts student in her Muggles Studies Class, Ms. Ginerva Weasley had turned down a job at the ministry instead to work (temporarily) at Gred & Forge's so that she could take a creative writing class at a local bookstore. After being told by the teacher that she 'should not be here wasting your time. Go write something and publish it.', she left the class, spent a few months writing a muggle love story and got it published. Though not a literary classic deserving the Nobel Prize, it did sell well in British bookstores. All of a sudden Ms Ginerva Weasley had money, a wee bit of fame and a growing reputation. Someone once told her, "Write what you know", so she used that advice to produce her next book _Do You Believe in Magic, _a story of teen romance in the halls of a British wizarding school (of course only those who attended Hogwarts when she was there knew that the story was actually based on two of her close friends).

At the same time, she was writing another story revolving around wizards, but decided that it would be better aimed at muggles. They loved the supernatural, and it was something she 'knew'. So she popped out another hit book. All this within 2 years. Ginny was on a roll and people couldn't get enough of Ms. Ginerva Weasley.

Harry thought it was quite remarkable that the youngest Weasley of them all was enjoying the most success. She'd started out as such a weakling, a wallflower, someone you would hardly notice. Then the War started and she changed. She grew up almost over night and Harry began to look at her differently. When he had begun to fancy her, he found out just how much she had changed. But after they broke up, he didn't get to see that side of her but once more before the final battle. Of course, he had started to see a bit of almost every Weasley in her personality, and now, at 20 years old, in Harry's opinion, she was the perfect combination of Weasley characteristics: She was motherly and protective of those that she loved, something her mother had instilled in her from the beginning. She, like her father, was fascinated by muggles and other cultures. She had the cool flirtatious charm that Bill used to win ladies' hearts; she was adventurous and not scared to take chances like her dragon-taming brother; she was studious enough to be a Prefect like Percy, but also had a sense of humor to rival the twins. And her temper, if tempted, could match Ron's – but she learned to control it far before Ron tamed his. And in addition to all of that, she had an easy going, casual manner about her that made her approachable, lovable and truly one of the most interesting people Harry had ever met.

"…and after all that, he still wanted to marry her! She was a complete and total bitch to him, and he still loved her. Now that is what I call tough love."

"I don't believe I could stand spending an entire evening with those people."

"Harry, you could if you were as smashed as I was." She laughed and took a drink of pumpkin juice. "Afterwards, I went back to my flat and put on a movie because I had to get that hideous woman out of my head. Oh, what a terrible woman." She shook her head, as if trying to shake the memory.

"Well, I bet she gave you an idea for a character at least."

"As a matter of fact, she did. I don't have a story for her yet, but I do have a character." Smiling, she looked at Harry who smiled contentedly back at her. She noted something strange in his eyes that she hadn't seen in a long time. It sent a tingle up her spine, but she continued to look at him. He'd changed a lot in the last 3 years. His look became rougher, more like Sirius, more like the early pictures of James that she'd seen. He was quiet, but not as quiet as he had been in his last two years at Hogwarts. Now he was quieter in a relaxed way. And he thought everything was funny. That was one of her favorite things about the new Mr. Potter – he had found laughter in life again, and to a greater extent than ever before. The only people she knew to laugh more than Harry were her older twin brothers.

She picked up their plates and returned them to the sink and then sat back down. Harry looked at her and then asked with a note of hope or expectation in his voice, "So, are you here for a while? Here in England that is?"

"Yes, I think for a while. I just returned from Paris…it truly is a lovely city. People may think the French are rude, but they aren't once you get to know their ways. And Paris is gorgeous. So many gardens, and museums with the most amazing art. Even on the street you can see beautiful art. I saw this one piece that was simply breath taking, so I bought it from this old man on the street, and I took it home and I stared into it for so long that I thought I was _in_ it. And then inspiration struck. For four days after that, I sat in front of my laptop and wrote. No sleep. Just writing. In four days I whipped out what I consider to be one of my best pieces….oh Harry I wish you could see the painting. Its so gorgeous, but its in my flat in Paris…" she drifted off realizing how much she'd been talking. That was another thing Harry loved about her – she could talk and talk and talk, and he could listen to her voice for hours.

"Well, you're connected to the Floo network aren't you? Why don't we just go?"

"What? Now?"

"Why not? Ron's busy. The Twins are busy. I don't have any plans for today. Let's go." He stood up and walked over to the fireplace. Ginny followed him, smiling. Even if they were just going for a few minutes, the fact remained: she was going to Paris with Mr. Potter.


	5. Flipping Through the Past

Chapter 5: Flipping Through the Past

Hermione opened her apartment door wearily, dropped her backpack on the floor and slowly made her way into her bedroom. Flopping down on her bed, she sighed. Though she loved teaching, tutoring that little girl Anna sometimes took all she had out of her. _That girl is exhausting_, Hermione thought. She curled up on her bed and then sat up suddenly remembering she had to get ready: she had a date with Kevin.

She rummaged through her closet, tossing various items of clothing on the floor. Nothing. _Nothing. Nothing will work_. _All of my clothes look hideous, UG!_ Hermione threw piece after piece of clothing on the floor. Skirts, shirts, dresses, pants. Nothing was going to work. Falling backwards on her bed, Hermione sighed and thought about a simpler time when she never worried about what to wear. _Of course I was worried about staying alive…_she shook the memories from her mind and sighed again. Why was she so nervous about this date? She'd known Kevin for more than a year, he'd seen her in class and at work, so what did it matter what she wore tonight?

Because tonight is a date. He has to see me as a girl, I have to be attractive, I have to look like a girl. Hermione sat up and remembered when someone else had finally seen her as a girl:

_"Hermione, Neville's right – you are a girl…" "Oh, well spotted, " she said acidly_

"NO, no, I will NOT think about him. I don't need to, I just need to go out, have a few drinks, and live a little!"

Standing up, Hermione looked in her closet again. She hesitantly reached for the black dress that Christine had loaned her. Her roommate was a little smaller than she, but had assured Hermione that it hugged her curves in all the right places. Right as she was putting it on, there was a knock on the door. She nearly fell over as she fumbled with zipping and running at the same time.

"No, no no no, he cant be here yet!" Hermione frantically ran a brush through her bushy hair, stepping over the mountains of clothes, looking for her shoes, and proceeding to freak out in the way only Hermione could. "Hang on! Just a minute!"

"Hermione, let me in! Let me in! I don't have my key!" Hermione stopped. Unless Kevin's voice was suddenly two octaves higher, that wasn't him. She opened the door to find Christine jumping up and down, grinning madly, waving an opened piece of mail in her hands.

"I got it! I got it! They accepted me!" she pushed her way into the apartment.

"What Christine? What?" Hermione was beyond confused, though a little relieved she still had time to get her act together.

"The internship! The one in London! The internship at the ad agency in London! Remember?" Christine looked as if she had a hanger in her mouth.

"Oh yes, yes! That's…fantastic Christine." Hermione turned and walked into the kitchen. She didn't want her friend to see the pained expression on her face. Her roommate and closest friend in Salem was planning on packing up and leaving to the very place she fled…

"_Why are you leaving? LEAVING? Going 100s of miles away?"_

She turned back to her roommate who was smiling expectantly. She'd worked so hard for that internship, it was her dream to go to London. Hermione smiled.

"I'm so proud of you. I knew you could do it. You're going to have a blast!"

Hermione started to hug her when they heard a knock on the door. Hermione's eyes flew to the door. "No! I'm not ready yet!"

"Its ok! You get ready, I'll stall him!"

And Hermione ran to her bedroom and slammed the door.

BAM!

Ron jumped, startled. The attic door had slammed shut, and the ghoul was laughing. "Damn ghost! What is it with you poltergeists, tormenting people and laughing!" Ron scowled.

The ghoul laughed and clanged his chains, causing Ron to pick up an empty box and toss it at the noises.

"You don't both Ginny, but you bother me! Go AWAY!" He threw another box and the ghost finally took the hint and stopped rattling.

Ron shook his head in frustration and t hen looked back at the notebook. He still could not believe that he as reading Hermione's private thoughts. It felt so invasive, yet so satisfying. It had been so long since he'd seen Hermione that Ron felt as if he didn't know her anymore. Hell, before she left, he felt like they'd been drifting and didn't understand one another as much.

But then again, how much had they really understood one another in the first place? He'd always made fun of her obsessive studying and perfectionism, her unexpected desire to help the Elves (which turned out to be useful later on) and her goody-two-shoes-need to follow the rules. But he smiled as he remembered the many times she had surprised him by breaking the rules. They shared many great adventures during their Hogwarts days as the Dream Team.

He then remembered the many times that the Dream Team, the trio, nearly ceased to be, due to one of their ridiculous fights. Harry stayed out of them –rightly so – and Ron wished he could take back all of the terrible and stupid things he had said to Hermione over the years. He shook his head as he thought about how mean he could be and how he didn't even try to understand or appreciate her point of view.

Granted, by 7th year, he finally learned that Hermione was usually right, and she had very good reasons for anything she did. And that her over-achieving ambition would pay off in the end. She helped them get out of more scrapes in their day; Ron smiled as he remembered the night they went through the trap door. And the night Sirius escaped (when she and Harry finally told him how it played out, he couldn't believe it). And the "sneak" incident in 5th year. And the night the death eaters attacked Hogwarts during 6th year. And that night during the summer in Hogsmeade with the Deatheaters. He shuddered, thinking how he'd almost lost her that night.

_Wait a minute. What? _Ron ran his fingers tiredly through his hair and tried to clear any thoughts like that from his head. Sometimes the way he thought about her gave him chills. He had vowed long ago, when they were still in school, that he would never jeopardize their friendship, and do everything in his power to protect her from getting hurt A single tear formed in his eye as he remembered that fateful night in the park near Grimmauld Place…..

_"Ron, what are you doing out here? You know we're not supposed to be out after dark." Hermione walked over to a park bench near where he was sprawled out on his back. He looked up at her – she had herself wrapped up in a heavy coat but was still shivering._

_"I know. But…I couldn't focus so I could read.. I didn't want to go to bed, and I'm sick and tired of being hatched up in that bloody house. I had to get out."_

_"That sounds like something Harry would say."_

_He snorted. "Yeah, only who knows where Harry would sneak off to."_

_"Probably somewhere not as obvious as this park. Its not a very good hiding place." He looked up at her and saw that she was smiling. Ron sat up and ran his hands through his hair. _

_"So you're not going to yell at me for being out here?"_

_Hermione sat down. "Well that wouldn't make much sense since I'm out here too. And besides, I'm not your mother. What's the point in chastising you? You never listen to me anyway, so I've given up."_

_Ron looked at her. Her face was wistful, but not sad. She brushed her hair out of her face. "Even though the only reason I _ever_ yelled at you and Harry was because I care about you. It was all –"_

_"I know, I know. 'Loving concern'. I know." He grinned at her. "It may have taken me a while to realize it, but I know you were only ever trying to protect us."_

_She looked at him with a deep look in her eyes. "Yes." What was she trying to tell him?_

_Ron didn't like the somber mood and didn't really know what to say, so he tried lightening the mood. "Well, I wish I could say the same about all the times I yelled at you. But well… I was just being a prat really."_

_Hermione chuckled. "Yes. Yes you were." Looking down at the grass, in a quiet voice she continued, "you were a great bloody prat because…because you never apologized. Or realized – realized how much you hurt me – " she hiccoughed and tried to stop herself from crying. Ron looked at her concerned. He hated seeing her cry, but he never knew what to say or do. "Hermione, I'm sorry, please, don't –"_

_"No, no. I didn't come out here to tell you what you did wrong. I –" she sniffed a little and wiped her eyes. Ron scooted closer to her, and tentatively placed his arm around her shoulders._

_"Ron. All those time we were fighting, all those times we weren't speaking, I was so…unhappy. I hated being angry with you and having you angry with me."_

_"I know. Me too."_

_"Remember that day in Hogsmeade, last year? The day the deatheaters –"_

_"yeah. Yeah I do." He didn't want to remember it though._

_"Well, that day, I was going to tell you something before the whole bloody mess happened. And then the hospital wing. And then we were finally on such good terms, and I didn't really want to chance anything and ruin our relationship – volatile as it was." She shrugged and her voice trailed off._

_"Hermione," Ron began. He didn't quite know how to say what was on his mind. He knew exactly was she was talking about. Ever since that day, they' practically stopped fighting. Ron learned to listen more, she learned to forgive, and they got along despite their many differences. No one really understood the change. But Ron did. That day she nearly died. Even thinking about it gave him a headache. On that day he vowed to treat her better, and appreciate every day he had with his best friends since he never knew what could be the last._

_"Hermione, I –"_

_"No, Ron. Let me finish. Before we met Harry at the Hogshead, I wanted to tell you –" she heavy sighed – "tell you that despite all the fighting, you're one of the most important people in my life, you're more than just my best friend. You're…I –"_

_But he cut her off. "No Hermione."_

_"What?" confused, she looked at him._

_"I know what you're going to say." (for once in her life, Hermione didn't have to spell it out for him). "At least I think I do. And if its anything like…like what I'm thinking –" he gulped," – then I think we should wait."_

_She furrowed her brows and opened her mouth to say something but closed it uncertain. Ron was suddenly afraid he'd made the wrong assumption. But she looked up at him and he knew he was right. She looked deep into his brown eyes. They were gentle and full of concern – something she'd been seeing a lot of in him – and at that moment, telling her how very sorry he was. _

_Suddenly he stood up, angry._

_"What is it Ron?"_

_"I HATE THIS!" he kicked the air. "We're not even supposed to be outside now, and you're telling me something you're not supposed to be saying, and I'm feeling something I'm not supposed to be feeling, and I want to do something I'm not supposed to even want to do. This DAMN WAR! ARRRRRRRRGH!" he roared with frustration at the stars._

_"Ron, be quiet!" Hermione stood up, looking around worriedly, and put a hand on his arm. _

_"No, Hermione, I wont! This whole thing is fucking with my head and I don't like it! I just…I just…" he stopped and hung his head._

_"What is it?" _

_"Nothing. It doesn't matter. Nothing matters right now except winning this bloody battle and living and making sure Harry lives too." He turned away from her and dropped his hands to his sides._

_Hermione sighed, knowing he was right. She shouldn't have come out there, she shouldn't have said anything. Nothing could happen because of the war, and the fact that nothing was for certain and that happiness just wasn't allowed. She knew he was right, that they shouldn't be feeling what they were feeling or saying what they were feeling, because at that moment in time all they'd be left with would be guilt. She knew he was right._

_Ron turned around and faced her. They were standing only inches apart. Ron took her hands in his and leaned his head down to rest on hers._

_"Its not supposed to be this hard, ya know." He whispered._

_"I know. We're only 17. its not bloody fair!"_

_"Oh, language, Hermione, language!"  
She laughed and he smiled and they inched their faces closer and closer until the knot of guilt in her stomach halted her._

_"Oh Ron, this is so wrong. Not now." She pulled away. Ron sighed._

_"I know, Mione. We cant. I know." He smiled a sad smile, which she returned._

_And that's when they saw the dark mark forming in the sky._

Ron leapt up from where he was sitting, angry for allowing himself to remember one of the most heartbreaking nights of his life. Since then, they'd both pushed aside the feelings they shared in order to concentrate on more important matters. There were many times they'd exchanged a look, or squeezed hands or some little gesture to indicate that one day, this will all be over.

But when that day finally came, nobody really knew what to do or how to return to a normal state. For so long the "abnormal" was "normal" that to return to the peace and calm of past normality was nearly incomprehensible – at least for those directly affected by the final battle, namely the brave students of Hogwarts. The final battle occurred more than a year after graduation, a year into their adult lives. They had all gone into their apprenticeships not really aware or attentive, just waiting for that day. By that point, none of them really expected to live, so none of them put much effort into work. Except Hermione, of course, who put effort into everything she did.

But afterwards that all changed. She became like a human shell, a zombie, just going through the motions, not really caring. That had happened to all of them to some extent. But for some reason, Hermione was more drastically affected, and therefore took more drastic actions.

_"I'm leaving. I've decided to quit this whole auror training and go to Salem."_

"_You're WHAT?"_

Ron couldn't believe his ears when she announced she was taking a break and getting away from it all. Why did everything else seem to think that it was ok? Ron never got it. He was so angry at her for leaving, that he didn't try to understand. She left just after that Christmas, and he only saw her once – on his birthday – before the next Christmas. And that was the last time he'd seen her. Nine months ago.

Nine months ago he nearly told her. He nearly broke down and confessed everything that they had silently vowed to hide years earlier. But he was scared that since so much time had passed, and since everything had changed so much, that she wouldn't feel the same as she did that night. He regretted not telling her, and remembered the ache in his veins as he walked her into town so she could catch a cab – since she refused to apparate to the airport – and the pain in his chest when she closed the door. He hadn't spoken to her since she left.

"That's it. This is enough." He stood up still holding the red notebook. "It has been long enough. I have to find her. I have to tell her." Ron pulled on the attic door, but it wouldn't open. "DAMMIT! Open!" He pulled harder and the door flew open, sending him backwards. The ghoul started laughing and clanging his chains as Ron stood up.

"One of these days…" he threatened and then ran down the stairs. _Ginny knows where she is. She c an tell me how to find her…_

"Ginny! Ginny! I need to ask you - " but he stopped at the bottom on the stairs because his sister and best friend were no where to be seen.


	6. Deux RendezVous

Chapter 6: Deux Rendez-vous

Harry was in awe. He'd never been to Paris, let alone on a whim, so Ginny played Tour Guide and showed him all the classic tourist sights (as well as the lesser-known local treasures) as they walked through the sixth arrondissement.

"Ginny this is really great. I'm having a really good time."

"Anytime, Potter." They grinned at one another and locked eyes for a brief moment before Ginny caught herself and directed Harry to the side of the road.

"Lets stop here – this is my favorite café. They actually have really good English tea – one of the only places in this town where you can get it."

They sat down at one of the small tables, and sat in silence, while they waited for their drinks, watching the passers-by.

Harry glanced at Ginny as she took a sip of tea, and noticed how avidly she was staring across the street. He turned and saw an American tourist competing with a robot street performer in robotic dance moves. The crowd was steadily growing, and the street performer was getting angrier at the tourist for taking all his tips. Harry chuckled and turned back to his drink. Ginny however was still watching, with a small smile on her face. Harry took this opportunity to study her face. He watched as she watched, amazed at the intensity of her eyes. His eyes danced around her face, noticing the faded appearance of her freckles and the porcelain smoothness of her skin. Her lips held the faint residue of pink lip gloss and invited attention with their soft contours. Harry realized he was staring and looked away before she could notice.

But then he thought that it wasn't wrong to notice how beautiful she was – that was more like fact, anyway – and they had dated, a long time ago. She had started coming into her own back in Harry's 5th year; once people noticed she actually spoke and that hey, there's a person in the room, they noticed how pretty she was. She wasn't gorgeous, but was a natural beauty. And once she realized that the boys were interested, her devilish spunk revealed itself. Harry remembered the many times he caught himself watching her as she flirted with other guys. And the one time Ron caught him.

_"Oy! Mate! What are you doin'?_

_"What?"_

_"You're looking at my sister!_

But Harry had to admit it – he still liked Ginny. A lot. He always had. Well, maybe not always. Once she had grown up and stood up to him and proved herself to be one hell of a fighter, Harry began looking at her differently. He saw her as a beautiful, intelligent, really wonderful person. That he really wanted to kiss. He remembered how soft her lips had been, how comforting and gentle her touch was. He wanted to know what her hands felt like now, he wanted to know how she had changed, grown up, matured, in the last five years…He couldn't believe the thoughts that were dashing through his head –

" – what do you think? Harry? Harry!" Ginny snapped her fingers in front of his face a couple times bringing him back to reality.

"Where were you?"

"What?" he went for innocent, but came out looking slightly dumb. But Ginny just shook her head and smiled.

"I never understood how you could zone out like that. Sometimes I wished I had that ability, just to get lost somewhere else."

"Oh." He was still trying to shake some of the lascivious ideas out of his brain.

"_Anyway_, what I was trying to talk to you about is my dolt of a brother. How's he been lately? The last few times I've seen him, he's been moping about, obviously longing after Hermione. I was hoping that leaving him in the attic would do some good."

"What exactly was in that book you left him?"

"Harry, that was Hermione's diary." Harry nearly spit out his tea.

"WHAT? You gave _him_ Hermione's diary! She's going to murder you!"

"No she's not," Ginny looked very calm and matter-of-fact as she explained. "Hermione and I talked loads of times about how it was much easier to put our thoughts down on paper, and how sometimes instead of having to talk about certain things to certain people, it would be so much easier for them just to _find_ our thoughts and _know_ them, without us actually having to confess to them. So in way, its like she _wanted_ Ron to find them. I just sped up the process."

Harry looked dubious. Ginny persisted, "Don't worry. I know it'll work. Ron will take the hint. Anyway, what were you thinking about off in LaLaLand?" she took another sip of tea but almost choked on it when Harry answered.

"You."

As soon as he said it, he couldn't believe it. Ginny was frozen, staring at the table, holding her teacup with both hands. Harry felt himself rising out of his body, looking down and watching himself stupidly admit "you", over and over and over again. Until, Ginny regained control of her body, set down her cup, took a breath and looked up at Harry.

That's when Harry knew he hadn't been completely wrong to say that. She was trying not to smile too much and her eyes were dancing. And when she spoke, she spoke softly, "Harry, will you walk with me?"

She placed a few Euros on the table, reached over and took his hand and led him to the sidewalk. He wasn't sure what she had in mind, but he was certain that by his confession, he had started something.

They walked the block in silence, and crossed into the park across the street. Harry closed his eyes as he breathed in the fresh scent of flowers – they were in one of the most beautiful gardens in France: the Luxembourg Gardens. And he was with one of the most beautiful women in Europe. He was shocked by the boldness of his own thoughts, having never before allowed himself to think such things about her, but they were both adults now. But Ron was no where to be seen, so Harry knew he wouldn't get hurt. Maybe it was the atmosphere or location or just the fact that Ginny was holding his hand, Harry felt free to think and say what he wanted.

"Ginny, I think you're amazing."

She stopped walking and looked up at him curiously. But before she could question his comment, he continued.

"I do. Out of all of us, you've changed the most – for the better, of course – and accomplished so much and you seem genuinely happy. You just…amaze me. And then…" he stopped, not sure if he really could say what he wanted to, but then looked at her looking at him and knew he could. "…and then there is the fact that you are beautiful, and so much fun to be around and, well, Ginny every time I look at you I have to consciously make an effort not to stare at you, because you are so damn beautiful. And…well…I miss you. I miss being with you. And I know we've both changed but I think…I think we'd be good together. Again." There. He said it. He couldn't believe how much he'd just revealed.

She was grinning that lopsided Weasley grin and looking around, not making eye contact, because she had no idea how to respond. Inside, she was screaming with joy because he finally said what she'd been waiting to hear. But she was caught completely off-guard and therefore didn't know how to respond. Finally, she managed to look at his face.

"Mr. Potter," she started in her mock-polite tone, "I do think it is awfully bold of you to say such things." He looked a little confused, and she giggled. "Of course, awfully sweet and daringly honest, as well, I have to give you that. But, I have to wonder what brought on such honesty?" she laughed and threw up her hands. "Why suddenly are you telling me this?

"Because of you. Ginny, I don't think you know this, but…there is something in your eyes. And in your smile, and in the way you talk to people that makes you completely disarming. I have never really wanted to be honest with anyone as much as I have with you. I mean, ok, remember that first night we really talked? By the fireplace?"

She nodded. How could she forget. He'd told her everything that night.

"Why do you think I told you? I could have told Ron or Hermione, but they were always so, I dunno, _shocked_ or worried or something that just really annoyed me and made me not want to tell them. But you…you make it so easy…" he shook his head, disbelieving what was happening, and remembering the night he and Ginny bonded…

"_Harry…" she whispered softly, penetrating him with those deep brown eyes. _

_He looked back at her expecting to see tears or sadness or fear but saw instead compassion and hope and understanding. And a little voice inside his head shouted, "Tell her! Tell her! She'll listen! She'll understand! She's been there too…" and so he did. He told Ginny Weasley what he'd only ever been told Ron or Hermione, but had stopped doing – he hated seeing the worry and the fear in their eyes, the darkness in their faces. Instead he'd learned to bottle everything up inside himself; of course that stopped working when he'd blow up in anger at his friends, and stopped sleeping just to avoid the dreams. He became the great pretender, growing angrier every day. Sirius' death, the mayhem at the ministry, the summer attacks…everything became heavier and more tormenting as his sixth year went on, making Harry a very sad, very angry bomb that could explode at the slightest provocation._

_Ron and Hermione had near given up on him. So he was very grateful to have Ginny, gentle and strong, to fall back on. And that night, for the first time, he had wanted to kiss her. Instead of acting rashly (for once), Harry chose the more reasonable action and did what she requested: he talked to her. He talked to her all night, about everything…_

"I told you things I had never told anyone. Things I didn't think I could ever tell. Without you, I might have exploded. I really might have. And Ron and Hermione might have killed me." He laughed gruffly. "I'm sure they really appreciated you, ya know, uh, - "

" – knocking some sense into you? Keeping you in line?"

"Yeah. Yeah that about sums it up." He grinned at her. "I just thought you should know."

He didn't really know where to look or what to do next. For a twenty-one year old, he wasn't as smooth with the ladies as one might hope. But Ginny didn't care. This was the boy who lived, the boy who had stolen her heart when she was just ten years old, and the only boy she had really loved. Granted, her feelings for the boy had changed, matured, grown, evolved into something she couldn't really name. The school-girl crush she harbored in those early years faded once she got to know him, and seen that he was just a human being, like everyone else. And that maybe we shouldn't place such high expectations on such a young and vulnerable person.

She grew to like him, not as a celebrity, but as her brother's friend, and then her friend, and soon she became his confidant. During her 5th year, she finally captured his attention, and after a quidditch victory, they kissed. She kept that particular memory locked away for moments when she most needed to smile, because nothing brought on such happiness as remembering the first kiss with the boy she loved. When Harry had told her, at the end of that year, that they could no longer be together, she understood and never pushed for them to get back together. It was always bad timing. But here they were, in Paris, with nothing stopping them. No family, no friends running away, no Ron to get in the way. Nothing.

Ginny looked up into Harry's face as the autumn wind rustled their hair. She reached and brushed his wild hair away from his forehead and ran her fingers softly over his scar. He closed his eyes and breathed in her touch. Slowly, she moved her finger down the bridge of his nose, and then over his lips, causing him to breathe in more sharply. With the tips of her fingers, she stroked his cheek, his ears and finally his neck, gradually wrapping her arms around him, and entwining her fingers in his hair, pulling him closer and towards her face. When they were only inches apart, he opened his eyes, only to close them again as she took his mouth with her own.

Passing children snickered as they watched this young couple embrace freely for the first time; Japanese tourists even snapped a few photos. For once in his life, Harry was somewhere where no one knew who he was, and didn't care what he was doing. People might steal a glance at the passionate kiss that was taking place in the beautiful French gardens, but no one really gave them more than a passing glace for they were in Paris, the city of love – a young couple kissing was an every day occurrance.

However, for Ginny, it was more than that. One might expect her to get wrapped up in old feelings, and obsess over the fact that here she was in the most beautiful city in the world kissing none other than Harry Potter; or one might expect her to think that _finally_ their love could be realized, and trip over herself in giddy school-girl delight.

But as Harry realized earlier, Ginny had most definitely outgrown her school-girl crush. She was a most mature woman and knew not to make a bigger deal out of a kiss than was necessary. But she was smiling her dazzling smile as they broke away, because Harry wasn't just another cute guy she got to kiss – Harry was the guy with whom she had bonded years ago during a life-threatening time, and with whom she had remained close. Harry was the only one who understood what made her tick. And for once, with a man, she didn't have to hide one bit of herself.

With her arms still around his neck, she said, "I'm glad you finally did that."

"Its been a long time."

She smiled and looked down. Harry continued to speak, "Gin, look at me. As dense as Gryffindor boys tend to be, I finally realized that I couldn't keep running. What I did five years ago was to protect you, and I think that even after everything was over, what with Hermione running off and Ron moping about all the time, it was hard to want to go back to what used to be…but I always did. I always wondered..."

Ginny just smiled and shook her head.

"Do you remember when you first started flirting with me… when I realized that I kinda liked it, I couldn't take being around you without being with you….that hasn't changed. You should know that you still drive me crazy. You are definitely not the same Ginny that squealed and ran back up the stairs when she saw me."

Ginny laughed at the memory of first seeing Harry at her dining room table. She had run up to her room and nearly started hyperventilating.

"You should also know, Ms. Weasley, that there is a very good chance that I have been….well…that I could very well be in love with you. As mad as that might seem." Harry was shocked at his audacity, disbelieving that he just admitted to his true feelings. And not for the first time, Harry felt his face turn red. Ginny grinned.

"Well, Harry, it looks like our Weasley blood has rubbed off on you – you're about as red as a tomato."

"Thanks Gin, that's really what a guy wants to hear right after he drops the L-word." He ran a hand nervously through his hair and tried, out of habit, to flatten the top. Ginny reached up to stop him.

"When will you ever learn, that it is useless to try and do that? Or that it isn't mad at all, that you could be in love with me, because for the last few years or so, I've been suffering the same malaise." She smirked with a familiar devilish glint in her eye, causing Harry to break into an ear-to-ear smile and pull her close to kiss her hard. Then suddenly, a frightening thought entered his head. He pulled back abruptly.

"What is it Harry?" Ginny looked a little concerned.

"Your brother! We cant tell your brother!" he pulled away and pulled his hair nervously.

Ginny just laughed. "Ron? Are you honestly worried about Ron?"

"Yes! Of course I am! Ginny, think about it – its Ron!"

"Harry, what is the big deal? Ron didn't care before when we dated…"

"I know! But that was different! That was back at Hogwarts…I mean…"

"What? How is this any different?"

'Other than the fact that I'm in love with you and…"

"And what?" Ginny was on the verge of laughing as Harry's eyes were wide and his hair seemed more ruffled than before.

"…and well, god Gin, don't make me say it." She pursed her lips and raised one eyebrow until he hung his head low and answered, "this is different Ginny, because…I want to do _very bad _things to you…"

Harry looked up at her, his eyes wide, waiting anxiously for her to respond answer. But she only laughed.

"No, you're right. He's going to murder you."

Waving his hands in the air, Harry tried not to attract too much attention by yelling, "Thanks a lot Gin! That's real reassuring!"

"Harry, calm down. Listen. We just wont tell him….yet. And as for my other brothers, who frankly wouldn't care – well Fred and George would probably pull you aside and threaten to use you as a guinea pig or something – but other than that you're perfectly safe. But ok, ok! We wont tell anyone, yet, just to be on the safe side."

Seemingly pacified, Harry nodded silently.

"Now, Mr. Potter – forget all this nonsense, we'll discuss those _very dirty things_ things later. For now, just kiss me."

And Harry happily obliged.

Hermione woke with a start. A small bang had come from the kitchen, and woken her up. Peering out through the bedroom door, she could see the cat, and a spilled cup on the floor. Breathing a sigh of relief, she let her head fall back on the pillow.

She turned to her right and smiled guiltily. Kevin was on his back, snoring softly, with a bit of drool creeping out of his mouth. Hermione restrained a giggle, wiped it away and kissed his forehead. She rolled over on her back, pulled the sheets up to her neck and stared up at the ceiling. She absolutely could not believe the night she had, and was starting to feel slightly guilty. She tried not to smile as she remembered the comfortably romantic dinner they had shared, the talkative walk through Salem, and the passionate silence as she fell onto him at his doorway. Never before had she been so direct with a guy, or allowed herself to be, for that matter. Never before had she gone so far on a first date, or thought she could enjoy it. And never before had she felt so comfortable with someone other than –

_No. Not tonight. I will not go there tonight_. She shook the thought from her head and closed her eyes hoping to fall asleep. A muffled snore came from Kevin's side of the bed and Hermione smiled in spite of herself. Everything felt so comfortable with Kevin. Having known him for a year definitely helped in that regard, but even before their date, months before, she had felt a natural attraction to him because of his laid-back attitude. She could talk about anything, well _almost _ anything, with Kevin: books, science, personal spirituality, stupid movies, music, roommates, childhood stories, embarrassing moments, responsibilities, death…of course many of the stories that Hermione recounted were altered to hide one little detail that could ruin it all. But she chose to ignore the fact that she was hiding a rather significant part of her past so she could enjoy herself.

And enjoy herself, she did. She sighed with satisfaction as she recalled the taste of Kevin's kiss – a little salty combined with the smell of his cologne, and the intoxicating sensation of him nibbling on her lip, neck, ear…a slight chill ran up her spine as she remembered him laying her gently on the bed, slowly undressing her, and staring at her, taking her all in…

_"You are beautiful, Hermione."_

_"Kevin, you don't have to - " she turned her head away, embarrassed._

"No, I do. You have never realized how pretty you are. Or the way your smile turns heads." Hermione blushed and allowed him to slowly remove her bra, and kiss her breasts. His touch made her feel so at ease and relaxed that when he slid into her, she felt instant pleasure.

Hermione covered her face with the sheet and tried not to giggle. She had enjoyed herself so much that even just thinking about the incredible night with Kevin brought a smile to her face. _My friends back home would never believe it,_ she thought. Most of them, she was sure, thought of her as prudish. Well, all but Ginny because out of everyone back home, Ginny was the one who knew of Hermione's sensual and sexual side. Ginny was the only one, for instance, who knew about the summer fling Hermione had enjoyed with a neighborhood boy, just before seventh year. For nearly six weeks, Hermione hid her relationship with Thomas, a college student studying to become a writer, from her parents. But for a mere month, Hermione enjoyed her first sexual experiences and first real relationship. It wasn't until she was forced to face reality and the ongoing problems in the wizarding world, and of course, her friends, that she felt the familiar knot of guilt tying itself in her stomach. She remembered hugging Harry and Ron hello in Hogsmeade, and barely being able to look Ron in the face. She felt as if somehow she had done him wrong by getting involved with Thomas, even though she knew that was a crazy and absurd thing to feel guilty over. Since then, she had not been able to seriously enjoy a date guilt-free, because in her heart, Ron had always stopped her.

Until tonight. And she wasn't about to let the past keep her from enjoying the present.

Hermione scooted towards Kevin, curled up in his arm, kissed his shoulder and whispered, "Good night" before finally settling back into the a comfortable sleep.


	7. Confusion and Frustration

Ch 7Confusion, Frustration and finally some Self-Realization

Ron stood dumbfounded at the bottom of the stairs. The kitchen was empty. Hadnt they _just_ gone down for a snack? Furrowing his brow, Ron peered around the corner to see if they were hiding from him.

"Harry? Ginny?" he called hesitantly. He stepped into the kitchen and saw no one.

"Where the bloody hell are they? HARRY! GINNY!" Nothing but silence. He walked all around the bottom floor of his house looking for any sign of life anywhere. He didn't even hear explosions coming from the Twins' room. It seemed no one was home.

Ron sat flabbergasted at the kitchen table, not able to think of any place the pair would have zoomed off to like that. Not without telling him!

He set the diary on the table in front of him and slumped back in his chair. Reflecting on everything he'd just read, Ron smiled. He still couldn't get over the fact that he had just read part of Hermione's private diary, and discovered that she in fact loved him just as he loved her.

_But what if she doesn't feel the same way any more? _Ron was suddenly worried. Ginny told him to call Hermione, but what if Ginny were wrong? Ginny could be wrong. He sighed, considering the possibilities of what could happen if Ginny were wrong. Hermione might just sit there, or laugh at him, or never want to talk to him again. She might be perfectly happy living far away from him, she may have found a new man to satisfy her…Ron's head snapped up at the thought of a new man. He shuddered. Though he and Hermione had yet to share any intimate moments, imagining her with anyone else made him sick.

Ron got up, walked to the sink and stared out the window. He watched as the gnomes ran happily through the garden, thinking how angry his mother would be later. He grimaced, imaginging the yelling. If there was one thing he avoided like the plague, it was upsetting his mother to the point of yelling. There was only ever one other person he hated upsetting more…and she lived too far away for him to apologize.

A bird landed on the windowsill and chirped merrily. Ron looked at it, deep in thought. "What am I supposed to say to her? I cant just waltz up to her door, knock and confess how much I love her. Like that actually works in reality." He scoffed, crossed his arms and stared thoughtfully past the bird into the distance. "And besides, she'd never believe me. She'd just think I was mental. I mean, honestly, I haven't talked to or seen the girl in over 9 months and I haven't received a letter in over six, so I get the impression that maybe she doesn't really _want_ to see or talk to me." Now Ron was worried. What if Hermione really never cared to see him again? Granted, she'd never said anything of the sort, but then again she hadn't made any Hermione-like gestures toward reaching him. Ron sighed again and flung his arms up in the air. "What the bloody hell am I supposed to do!"

"Well, you can stop talking to yourself for starters."

Ron whipped around to find his troublesome twin brothers sitting on the stairs watching him. Rolling his eyes, Ron said, "Of course. Just what I needed today. _You_ two eavesdropping."

"Well its sorta hard _not _to eavesdrop, Ronnikins, when little Miss Lovesalot is yelling about his girly problems in the kitchen."

"I was NOT yelling. I - "

"It doesn't matter if you were yelling or not - " George got up and walked towards his younger brother. Fred followed. "What matters, is that _we_ are now here, to help."

"And perhaps I can help more so than George." George made a confused gesture towards his twin, who replied with a 'you-know-what-I-mean' glance, and George nodded his head in defeat.

"He's right. I'm useless. I completely botched things up with Katie."

"Anyway, Ronnikins," Fred clapped his brother on the shoulder and steered him towards the table. "What you have here is a typical love story dilemma. Boy meets girl - "

"- boy befriends girl - "

" – boy loves girl but wont tell her -"

"- boy loses girl and doesn't see her for a year -"

"- boy needs to tell her he loves her but doesn't know how. You see it every day."

Ron was not entirely amused by the twins' storytelling, but listened anyway. He wouldn't admit it to them, but any advice would be good advice. Though Ron had dated a few girls off and on after the war, he was no better with women than Harry was…

…There had been Beth, the 19 year old witch-turned-waitress in London. But Ron could never remember her name. And then Denise, who got angrier at Ron more often than Hermione ever had. And the one date he suffered with Theodora, Parvati's younger cousin who was more vapid, senseless and shallow-minded than any girl Ron had seen on American reality TV. After dating and dumping a handful of girls, Ron came to the brilliant conclusion that after so many years of being hounded by Hermione, lectured by Hermione and looked after by Hermione, there was really only one kind of woman for Ron. A Hermione. She needed to be intelligent, and able to hold her own in a conversation (unlike the slightly brain-damanged Theodora); she needed to be pretty, but not worried constantly about her beauty (ala Lavendar and Parvati); she should be ambitious but not obsessive (as in the over-zealous Denise); and she needed to understand him, his moods, his thought patterns, and most of all, his heart (unlike any of the women he'd met, _other _than his best friend). In short, the only girl for Ron was the only girl he couldn't get his hands on.

"But its not like you ever really tried." Fred cut into Ron's thoughts. Ron narrowed his eyes at his brother. _How do they _DO_ that?_ Ron thought angrily in awe. On more than one occasion, his brothers – and sister for that matter – had been able to jump right into Ron's thoughts. It nearly scared him, but he ignored the feeling of being invaded, and answered Fred's comment.

"What the bloody hell are you talking about?" Ron defensively crossed his arms.

George chuckled and smiled at his twin. "Fred is merely referring to the fact that in all the years you were friends with Hermione - "

" – and in all the years that you had opportunity after opportunity to act on your feelings - "

" – you let all those years pass on by, and never told the girl that you were mad crazy head over heels in love with her."

Still unamused, Ron didn't say anything. He couldn't argue with his brothers. They were right. Though, it wasn't really all that many years; he hadnt realized his feelings until he was 14 and really, what 14-year-old is going to admit to being in love?

"Well, this is all _really_ fascinating, I love traveling down Memory Lane with you two, but I thought you were here to _help_ me." Ron looked pointedly at his brothers and moved towards the table. "I _know_ perfectly well, thanks to you, Ginny, Mum, Harry and the bloody rest of the wizarding world, that I have been an idiot. I don't need to be reminded. What I _don't_ know perfectly well is how to _not_ be one anymore." He sighed. He looked at his brothers who had now moved directly across from him at the table and said less aggressively, "Look, for the first time, and maybe the only time, I am actually asking you two for help. Because its been too long, and I don't know how to fix…fix what I fucked up. You think you botched it with Katie? Well, how many times have you yelled at her about 'fraternizing with the enemy'? Or accusing her of going behind your back and secretly snogging the Ravenclaw prefect? And how many times have you suggested that she marry a book since she pays more attention to them than to her own friends? Merlin, I was a bastard to her…" Ron looked slightly abashed. The twins even looked worried.

But Fred spoke up. "Mate, that was all in the past! I'm sure if Hermione is as logical and practical as she always seemed to be (aside from when she was fighting with you and being more emotional than a drag queen with PMS), then I'm _sure_ she's let that all go." He nodded, smiling, as if that solved everything.

Ron did not seem so sure. "You didn't hear our last conversation. The one before she left…" Ron winced as he recalled his harsh words. "It was not pretty."

"Ok, what about the last time you saw her? At Christmas wasn't it? How did that go?"  
Ron thought for a moment, staring off into space…

_The old friends stared at one another. They looked surprisingly similar as they had growing up, but now an unfamiliar awkwardness filled the space between them._

_"Hey." She smiled tentatively at him, thinking that he had no idea how badly she wanted to hug him, hold him, just to touch him._

_"Hi." He dug his hands into his pockets, not knowing which he wanted more: to give her the cold shoulder for running away, or to embrace her tightly now that she was home. "Its been a long time."_

_"Yes it has. How have you been?" She moved a little closer towards him, causing him to turn around and run his hand through his hair when he answered._

_"Oh, you know, the same. I mean, obviously, things are different, but everything else…the same." He closed his eyes, cursing himself for sounding like a moron. _

_She didn't respond. He turned around to find her facing the house. She took a deep breath, as if about to say something, but then stopped herself. Then she started again, "Salem is really nice. You should come visit. You might really like it. I do, at least. Its been really good for me, I think." She turned to face him and tried to smile like she used to. "But -"_

_"RON! HERMIONE! DINNER IS READY!" _

She hung her head, not finishing her sentence. He kicked some dirt before they both turned and headed towards the Burrow.

"Umm…it didn't go so well. Well, there was no yelling at least. But there wasn't much of anything else either." Ron grunted out of frustration, kicked himself up from the table and started pacing.

'This shouldn't be this difficult, you know? I mean, I should probably just suck it up, go over to wherever it is she's living and knock on her door and tell her how I bloody feel and have felt and will always feel and just get on with it, but I cant! I cant! And do you know why I cant?" He was practically yelling, so the twins said nothing and just shook their heads.

"Because I'm scared she doesn't love me!" Ron let out a bunch of air and ran both his hands through his hair. "I'm scared I've completey ruined our relationship. Or that if it isnt already buggered, that if I go over there, it will be! Can you believe this?" he started laughing. "I have faced giant spiders, dementors, Death Eaters, and the thing I'm most scared about is telling Hermione that I love her." His chuckles turned into genuine laughter. He sat back at the table, slapping his knee; tears even formed in his eyes.

Fred stood up, a little worried about his brother's sanity. "Ronnikins…" but Ron just kept on laughing. "Ron, you're worrying me…you're acting a lot like Harry…"

George walked over to Ron, glanced at his brother, glanced back at the near hysterical Ron and smacked him. Ron sat up straight, red in the face from laughing, glaring confusedly at his brother.

"What the bloody hell did you do that for?" he asked as he rubbed his cheek.

"To calm you down, you bloody monkey. Now listen to me. I am going to be completely serious for about 30 seconds, so pay attention, because there is only going to be one person that I ever repeat this to, and she's not here right now." He squatted down in front of Ron, with Fred standing at his side and looked Ron straight in the face. "I've done a lot of stupid things in my life. Everyone knows that. But I've also done a lot of great things – putting it to Umbridge for one, working for the Order for another – but out of all the things I've done in my life, the greatest thing I've ever done…was love Katie, and the dumbest thing I've ever done was let her walk out of my front door. So, as your older brother, I'm telling you - not suggesting, not advising, but _telling_ you - that you are going to America. And you are going to find her, and the first thing that you are going to do when you see her is pull her tight to you and kiss her harder than you've kissed anybody in your entire life. And then you are going to look her squarely in the face and say four things: I love you, Hermione. I always have and I always will. I'm sorry for being an idiot. Please come home with me." George stood up, and Fred clapped him on the shoulder. He didn't make a smart-ass comment or joke, he just nodded and looked at Ron.

"He's right. That was beautiful mate. Now, I think you need to be on _your_ way somewhere. I'll help Ron out." He smiled at his brother, who smiled back, and then they embraced, slapping one another on the back. George disapperated, leaving Ron, stunned, alone with Fred.

Ron's eyes were round with shock, and his brow narrowed in confusion, and his mouth open, with no words coming out. _Never_, in his entire life, had Ron witnessed such a moment involving Fred and George. They Serious. About women. Granted, Ron had seen his brothers quite serious during the war, but in general, they kept everyone's spirits up with their jovial sense of humor and creative inventions. When they were serious, they were angry and fighting a battle. Life during the war was taken very seriously by the twins. But Ron couldn't think to a time where they took anything serious regarding women.

Ron glanced at Fred and then at the floor. George was right. But there was still that knot of guilt and anxious anticipation that tore apart his stomach. He sat staring at his knees, thinking.

"Ron, do you know where she is?"

"Yeah. Somewhere in Salem. Unless she's moved. But I highly doubt that. She's living with that girl she wrote to all the time."

"Ok, well all you need to do is find out exactly where they live and get there asap."

"Yeah, but the only person that knows exactly where they live is Ginny. And she doesn't appear to be here." He stood up, running his hands through his hair before jamming them in his pockets. "I wonder where she is. She and Harry came down here for a snack, and when I came down they were gone…as were you. Where _were_ you?"

"Oh we had to go to our shop; the idiot we have working behind the counter blew up his head like a balloon with our new Balloon Bubble Chewing Gum." He shook his head and rolled his eyes. "Biggest moron I've ever met. And that's discounting you." He winked at Ron, who gestured rudely before going back to the table.

He looked down at Hermione's journal. He picked it up and flipped through it, wondering how in the world he was going to do this.

_"...then I thought that maybe Ginny might be right. That Ron might actually feel the same way about me. There are times when he is gentle and sweet and I see something in his eyes – a certain spark that I cant explain. Is it love? Affection? Longing? Or am I imagining it? This sounds completely girly and unoriginal, but, every night, or nearly every night, the easiest way for me to fall asleep is to imagine his arms around me, holding me tight, his breath in my ear, as we fall asleep together. It may never happen, ever. But for now, pretending it does is easier than facing the nights completely alone. Am I ridiculous for doing so? I confessed this secret to Ginny, the one person who knows how I feel, and she said she understood completely. That its not ridiculous at all. She said not to give up hope, and that maybe I should stop being so stupid and just tell him. Right. Like I could do that. But maybe she's right. Ginny's a very smart girl..."_

Suddenly a loud noise came from the living room. Ron stopped reading, slammed the book shut and looked up at Fred who looked just as confused and curious as he did. Then they heard laughing. They nodded to one another, walked slowly together to the doorway and looked in. Ginny and Harry were standing in front of the fireplace, laughing, brushing off soot from their clothes. Ron and Fred, without realizing it, both crossed their arms and looked sternly at the pair.

Harry and Ginny saw that her brothers were silently staring at them. Harry stopped laughing immediately, and moved behind Ginny, who took a defiant posture and looked at her brothers.

"Where have you two been?" Ron asked very slowly.

Harry noticed the familiar angry crease between Ron's eyebrows and felt himself pull closer to Ginny.

"In Paris. I was showing Harry my flat, and a few of the local sights. But I really don't see how its any of your business." Ginny smiled and turned to Harry and said, "Look at them, don't they remind you of how Crabbe and Goyle used to look." She giggled and started to walk towards the kitchen.

The brothers didn't budge. Harry gulped. He figured Ron would be a little irritated that they had left without saying anything, but he didn't expect him to be as angry as he looked.

"Just where do you think you're headed?" Fred asked, imitating his mother's voice.

Ginny stopped and stared at her brother. "What are you guys doing! Harry and I went for a walk. Must you _really_ act like such over protective oafs? I am 20 years old. I can do what I like with who I like, so get out of my way." She pushed through the boys, and motioned for Harry to follow, but the boys closed the gap, facing Harry like two bouncers. Harry was not looking forward to this.

"Where did you go?"

"Where did you take her?"  
"What did you do?"  
"Did you touch her?"

"HONESTLY! RON! FRED!" Ginny reached through and pulled Harry into the kitchen. Harry didn't understand why they were acting like this. It was worrying him slightly.

Ron and Fred turned to the kitchen, still with their arms crossed. The looked at each other, and finally smiled and let their arms down.

"We're just messing with you two. We know you didn't do anything. Come on, Harry. Don't look so shaken. You look slightly guilty."  
Harry laughed to keep them from suspecting anything, but his heart was still beating rather fast. He sat down at the table.

"So what have _you_ two been doing?" Ginny asked as she sat down next to Harry.

Fred jumped in before Ron had a chance, "Well, George and I came home to find this one talking to himself about a particular curly haired female. Apparently he's realized his true feelings for her and needs your help in locating her so that he can go pour out his pining heart to his one true love." Fred said this all very matter-of-factly and rather quickly, and ended it by patting Ron hard on the shoulder.

Ginny cocked her head towards Ron and smiled. "So I take it that you read Hermione's diary?"

"Well," Ron began, feeling his face grow redder by the second. "I read some of it. actually, quite a lot of it. I just…" Ron didn't really want to start blubbering on about Hermione, especially in front of Harry, but with a playful nudge from his brother, he decided just to say it. "I need to find her to tell her I want her to come home."

"Why do you want her to come home?" Ginny smiled deviously at her brother.

Ron sighed and shrugged his shoulders as he answered, "You know why Gin." He paused. "Because I love her."

Ginny smiled, very satisfied. She turned to Harry and said, "See, I told you it would work." She looked back at her brother who was trying not to smile; he figured out what Ginny did.

"So can you help me? I know you know where she lives."

Ginny stood up and marched up to her bedroom. "Sure. Just let me put a few things in a bag, and we'll be on our way."

Ron watched with a question on his face as she ascended the stairs. "What? You're going with me?"  
"I haven't watched you long after her for this long to _not_ see her face when you finally tell her!" She grinned and went into her bedroom. Ron just shook his head and stared at the diary in his hands.

Harry stood up and clapped his friend on the shoulder. "I don't spose you have a few extra clothes I could borrow, eh?" he grinned at Ron who just laughed. It was about to happen – he was finally going to set things straight between him and Hermione. And Ginny and Harry were going to be there to watch him get the girl of his dreams…or pick him up when he falls flat on his face. Whichever happened, he was glad they were coming.

The next morning, when Hermione woke up, Kevin was gone. Confused, Hermione looked around the room for any sign as to why he might have left. Wrapping the sheets around her body, Hermione stumbled out of bed and over to her dresser where she saw a note stuck in the mirror:

"Went out to get coffee and bagels. Back in a bit. Love, Kevin"

Hermione smiled to herself and bit her lip. Sometimes she couldn't get over Kevin's sweetness.

Hermione decided to surprise Kevin when he came back, and crawled back into bed to fnd the sexiest position she could remember from all those Cosmopolitan magazines her friends had forced down her throat. Rolling from side to side, stretching out her legs and throwing back her arms, Hermione felt ridiculous. _I can't pull off 'sexy', what am I thinking?_ She flung her right arm behind her head, thrust her left leg out in front of her and positioned the sheets just over the right parts of her body when there was a bold knock on the door. Startled, Hermione flailed her arms about, twisting herself in the sheets and ultimately falling out of bed.

"In a minute!" she yelled, scrambling for boxers, a shirt, underwear – anything to make herself half decent. Sighing, she found pj pants and an old t-shirt and threw them on. "I'm coming!" _Who could this be at this hour? What in the hell do they want? _Hermione glanced at her bed, and threw her hands up in the air, not believing what she had just attempted to do. _Never again_.

She scurried to the door and peeped through. Christine. Confused, Hermione opened the door. "Why are you knocking? Forget your key again?"

"No. I worked late, and stayed at Scott's for the night."

"Oh ok…" Hermione still didn't understand why her roommate was knocking, but let it go.

Christine surveyed her roommate and laughed. "I can see you had a wild night." She made her way to the kitchen as Hermione looked down at her clothes. Now she could see that the PJs she put on were indeed her favorite old red ones from 3rd year that Mrs. Weasley had made her, and were rather too small for her. And she was wearing Kevin's t-shirt inside out and backwards.

"Well, I was trying to get dressed in a hurry when I heard you knocking so frantically. You sounded like you were in a hurry. What's wrong?"

Christine acted casual, pouring herself a cup of juice. "Oh nothing is wrong. I was just walking back here when I saw Kevin walking down to the end of the square for bagels. And I thought, 'aha! Perfect time to talk to Hermione!'" She closed the juice carton put it back in the fridge and sat down at the kitchen counter.

"About what? What did you want to talk to me about?" Hermione was absolutely confused but curious at the same time. She walked over to sit next to Christine, who looked as if she had a hidden motive up her sleeve.

"Oh, nothing. Except this!" she pulled out a black notebook from her bag. Hermione's eyes widened as soon as she saw it and she tried to grab it back. Christine jerked it away, and smiled at her roommate. "Oh no missy! Finders keepers!"

"Christine! Where did you find that!" Hermione could feel her heart racing.

"You left it in my car the other day when I dropped you off."

Hermione's eyes became very wide again.

"Oh don't worry Hermione. Nobody else read it."

"But…you did?"

"I have to admit I was curious. I thought, maybe Hermione has a little black book of men? That couldn't be, that's ridiculous. Instead, it's a little black book of _man_. One man in particular…"

"Christine…" Hermione did not like the way this conversation was headed. Suddenly, Christine put the book on the counter and softened her gaze.

"Hermione, my dear friend, I thought you said you didn't love him?"

"I don't, I - " Hermione heavy sighed and looked at the book. Her journal. She'd kept a journal since she was 11, the day she found out she was a witch. And she'd never been able to drop the habit. Throughout her Hogwarts days, she'd used special charms to keep her diary protected, but as a muggle, she didn't deem it necessary.

"Hermione, can I ask you a question?"

"How can I stop you? Its in your nature isn't it?" Hermione braced herself for what was sure to be the third degree.

"Why did you leave England?"  
Hermione looked up at Christine sharply. "You know why I left England!"  
"Why did you leave England, Hermione?"

"Because it was too much! I needed to get out of there!" Hermione could tell that

Christine wanted more. "Look, I wasted a year of my life waiting to die, waiting for Voldemort. An entire year! The most important year, right after graduation. Instead of going on to succeed in a new job or apprenticeship, I was waiting to finish what I assumed would have been done at Hogwarts. Seven years at Hogwarts, seven years of Voldemort. But it didn't work out that way. And when death never came, and we actually _won_, I wasted another six months walking through life as a zombie. I had to leave, you know that. You're the one that pushed me to come here." Hermione crossed her arms very defensively, nearly glaring at her roommate.

"Right. Hermione, I think what you did was right. I'm not trying to tell you that you shouldn't have come here. All I'm doing is asking why."

"And I just told you."

"Ok. If that's the only reason, then why do you still pine after him?"

"I do not _pine_ after anybody! In case you havent noticed, I am in a serious relationship with Kevin! And I - "

"Hermione. Listen to me, and I'm saying this as your friend who cares deeply about you: tell him that you love him…that you always have and always will."

Hermione was quiet for a moment, contemplating everything her friend was saying, and wondering how much of her journal she had indeed read.

"Don't worry, I only read a couple pages. I didn't even need to read that much to get the gist of the entire thing."

Hermione almost laughed. It was rather ridiculous in her opinion, but writing about her problems was the only way she could ever solve them. Her journal was her therapy.

"So…you don't think my getting involved with Kevin is a good idea?"

"No, I think it's a wonderful idea. One of the best things you've done since you've been here. Finally letting yourself enjoy life. I just think, its time for you to go back to England to enjoy it. Go back to the man you love."

Hermione looked dubious. "And you got all this, from that?" indicating the journal.

Christine nodded wisely. "Hermione, you left England to escape the immediate misery and your immediate problems. Those problems are now solved. You are once again alive, no longer a zombie, and back to being your very studious, very successful self. You've gained some experience, you've finally gained some weight back, and I think you're ready to go back home."

Hermione hung her head back and sighed. Why did Christine always have to be so right? It really irritated her, but at the same time she was glad to have such a loyal and honest friend.

"I don't know, Christine. I don't know if I'm ready. I was finally getting over - "

"No, you're not 'finally getting over' him, you were never under him! You want to be though." Christine smiled her devilish smile and took a drink from her cup.

"Christine! I cannot believe you just said that!"  
"Yes you can! Its me! But seriously Hermione, you're not over him, you never will be. So just admit it to yourself and let yourself be happy!"

"I _am_ happy! I had an amazing night last night! Kevin is amazing and sweet and kind and smart and - "

Just then the door opened. "Helloooo? Guess who brought breakfast!" Kevin came sweeping into the living room, smiling, holding two big brown bags and a cup holder with three cups of coffee. "Hey Christine! I brought enough for the three of us."

Christine stood up. "That's sweet of you, Kevin. But I was just leaving." She walked into the kitchen to put away her cup, as Hermione glared at her and Kevin set everything down on the coffee table. Hermione got up to kiss Kevin hello, and heard Christine rummaging underneath the sink. Then she heard the door open and shut, and when she turned to say goodbye to Christine, she was gone. Hermione didn't hear what Kevin was saying because sitting on the counter was a broken picture frame, holding a laughing photo of the redhaired man she loved.

A/N: I want to apologize for not updating earlier. I've had this written for over a month but with school and exams and then moving temporarily to Canada for the summer and work work work….but I really want to finish this story soon. My goal for being in Canada was to write more. So I promise I'll write more soon! I really want to finish this. Its been nagging at me for so long. But I do appreciate any of you who take the time to read my story. I hope you're enjoying it. Remember Read and review! THANK YOU!


	8. Planes, Pains and Other Memories

Chapter 8: Planes, Pains and Other Memories

Ginny came running down the stairs carrying a red beat-up suitcase and with her hair pulled back. "Ok, guys, ready?"

Harry and Ron looked at her with their arms crossed. Ron was tapping his foot impatiently. "Uh, yeah! We've been ready for the last 15 minutes." He turned to pick up his duffle bag and Harry heard him mumble, "women" under his breath. He turned and smiled at Ginny. "You look nice. Did you change clothes?"

"Yep. I figured I might as well look nice for whatever the hell is about to happen."

"Hey!" Ron turned around and pointed at her. She thought his temper might flare but then he lowered his arm. "You're supposed to be supportive. Be optimistic!"

"I _am_ being optimistic! I'm just saying, we also need to be realistic. But come on lets go."

The three of them walked into the living room where Fred was sitting with his feet up on the couch reading a "Women's Witch Weekly". He licked his finger and turned a page before looking up at the soon-to-be-travelers. "Soooooo, I was curious, how you guys planned on _getting_ to Salem?"

Harry, Ron and Ginny turned to face Fred in unison. Then they dropped their bags. "Ummm…" Ron started to mutter. Harry looked pensive and Ginny chewed on her bottom lip in thought.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," Fred stood up, dropping his magazine. "I knew you'd need me again." He stretched his arms up to the sky and did a couple toe touches. Ginny stood with her arms on her hips. "Ok, Mr. Hotshot, we can handle getting there-"

"Oh yeah? Well, you can't go by Floo, because I highly doubt Hermione and her wannabe-Muggle roomie have a fireplace that is connected to the Floo network. You can't apparate because you need Ministry permission to do Oceanic Apparition. Cant go on a flying carpet because they've been banned for 42 years or so and there are no known port keys set up to take you to America at this current time."

Ginny dropped her arms, defeated. They hadn't really thought this plan through all the way.

"But no worries, my liebkins, dear Uncle Fred has taken care of you, once again!"

Ron snorted at that remark. Fred walked over to his brother, smiling and slapped him hard on the back before embracing his brother and Harry. "For I, in all my brilliance, have already called into Heathrow airport – while you kids were packing – and booked three coach tickets to New York. Oh, Ginny, dear sister, don't look at me like that, I know it's a rather surprising and generous move on my part, but ya know, George and I can afford it and well, it's the least we could do." He patted Ron on the back. "Because now the hard part is left to you. Good luck, young grasshopper. Return safely!" He grabbed Ron's head and gave him two big, wet smackeroos on his face. Ron grimaced and Harry laughed. "Oh, you think you're getting off easy, Mr. Potter?" Harry tried to duck, but Fred grabbed his face too and kissed his cheeks. Ginny started giggling but then thought of something. "Fred…uh, what are we going to do about passports?"

Fred looked insulted. "You doubt my abilities? I am shocked. My sweet little sister doubts her big brother's abilities?" He shook his head disappointment. He walked over to the table and picked up three little blue booklets. He held them out to his sister but grabbed them back when she reached out for them. "What do you say?"

"Thank you, big brother." She snatched the fake passports out of his hand. "Do I want to know where these came from?"

"Nope."

"Will they pass for real passports?" Harry was looking at them with great interest. He'd only ever seen his aunt and uncle's passports, but these looked pretty real to him.

"Yep. No worries. Trust me. George and I didn't go into the fake document business for nothing."

"What?" Ginny looked shocked.

"Nothing nothing. Just go! Don't miss your flight!"

They grabbed their bags and apparated to the airport.

"Hey sweetie." Kevin kissed Hermione on the cheek and set down his bag of bagels and cup holder with their coffees in it. Hermione smiled at him, barely feeling his lips on her skin; her thoughts were elsewhere. _Who does she think she is, barging in here when I'm perfectly happy_ –

"Hermione?" Hermione snapped her attention to her sweet mannered and considerate boyfriend.

"What?"

"I just asked you if you wanted cream in your coffee." He looked a tad concerned."Um, yeah. Sure. That sounds great. "

"You ok? You seem a bit distracted." Kevin set her coffee with cream in front of her and opened the bag of bagels.

"Oh, no, no. Christine just came by here and well, you know Christine. Ha ha." She forced a smile and found herself staring – or was it glaring? – at the photo Christine had set on the counter.

"Oh, who's that?" Kevin picked up the photo fame. Hermione's eyes widened and reached up to grab it, knocking her cup over the process. "Whoa!" Kevin dropped the already broken frame on the counter and scrambled to get a towel. "Take it easy, Miss Klutz!" he smiled at her and she grabbed the photo from the counter. Aside from explaining who was in the photo, she didn't also want to explain why the photo was moving. Kevin hadn't seemed to notice, thankfully, and picked up Hermione's half-empty cup, placing it back in front of her. "You can have mine if you want…"

"No, no I'm fine. I don't really need much caffeine anyway." She laughed a little and went to put the photo in her room. When she came back, Kevin had taken up the stool next to hers and was applying cream cheese to two bagels.

She sat down next to him and smiled. He looked at her and kissed her gently on the lips. "Good morning, beautiful." She blushed, as she always did whenever someone complimented her, and took a sip of coffee. "So, who was that a picture of?"

Hermione bit her lip, trying to figure out how and if she should answer the question. "Um, oh no one. Just…just an old friend." She held her cup with two hands and took another sip.

"Well he looked like a rather happy fellow. Though that picture seemed rather odd for some reason…is it an old photo?"

"Um, yeah, I guess. It was taken in our second to last year of school."

"Oh ok." Kevin took a bite of his bagel. "So is that that fellow you mentioned, um…Harry, I think it was?"

Sometimes Hermione really appreciated Kevin's genuine interest in her life but this morning his curiosity was not appreciated. "No, its Ron." Hermione grimaced as she said the name. It had just come out of her mouth without her intending it to. She took a bite of bagel in case he asked any more questions.

"Ron? I don't think I remember hearing that name? Were you close?"

Hermione sighed. There was no way avoiding this conversation. Once Kevin got interested in a subject, he rarely let it go. Usually she could divert his attention from her past but sometimes, it was just too difficult to avoid. She decided just to give in. "yeah. We were very close. He and Harry were my best friends. But…but I guess you could say we've drifted since…uh, we left school." _And since I fled England…_she thought miserably.

Kevin looked at her kindly. "Aw, that's too bad. I've never gotten over drifting away from my college roommate. He was one of the best friends I've ever had." He paused to take a drink. Then, "Maybe I should call him up this week." He looked up thoughtfully and took a bite of his bagel. Hermione glanced at him. Was he trying to tell her something? She frowned slightly.

"Yeah, yeah. It is a shame, I suppose. We were really good friends…"

"Were you guys ever _more_ than friends?" he grinned at her. She slapped him lightly on the arm.

"No, not really…" then she stopped. Remembering what Ron had said that night…

_"We're not even supposed to be outside now, and you're telling me something you're not supposed to be saying, and I'm feeling something I'm not supposed to be feeling, and I want to do something I'm not supposed to even want to do…"_

"Well, actually, we almost were, I suppose…"

Kevin looked at her, eyebrows raised. "Yeah? What happened?" Perhaps he expected a juicy boarding school story, but it was nothing of the sort.

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing." She shook her head as she remembered that night in the park, outside of headquarters for the order. "We were just sitting, talking outside one night and we almost, well, we almost kissed but then…" she couldn't exactly say 'and then death eaters showed up' so she improvised, "but then something big happened that sort of distracted us and…I guess time and politics and everything just got in the way." She sighed and then sort of chuckled. "I didn't realize till later that I'd been waiting for years for the night that didn't happen." She sighed again and slumped on her stool. Did she regret what had not happened? What if they had kissed that night? What if they had actually told each other what they meant to that night? She was staring off into space and jumped when Kevin touched her shoulder.

"You know, Hermione, when I was in college, I was in love with my best friend's little sister, Marie. She was a year behind us and went to a college a few hours from mine and Marc's. That's her brother. For years, I didn't want to tell her how I felt for a lot of reasons, most of which were inanely stupid now that I think about it. And now, even though my feelings for her have changed and I don't even know where she is in her life, now I regret never having told her. I denied myself the chance to be happy. No one should ever do that." He paused and rubbed Hermione's back. She looked at him. "And I vowed never to do that again." He smiled at her. She smiled back and sighed, resting her head on his shoulder.

Once on the plane, Ron was struggling to put his luggage in the overhead compartment; a pretty stewardess offered her assistance.

"Can I help you, sir?" She smiled flirtatiously at his and made sure her hand touched his when she put the bag away. "Is there anything else I can get you sir?"

"Uh, no thanks." Ron sat down. The stewardess put her hand on his shoulder and bent down. "If you need anything else let me know. Anything else at all." She winked at him and she sashayed down the aisle.

"Merlin's beard, I don't know much about women, but was she flirting with you or what!" Harry nudged him in the shoulder and grinned.

Ron stared at Harry. "What? Really?" He looked down the aisle at the stewardess. "Wow. I didn't even notice.." Ginny smiled but made sure her brother didn't see her. Even though she was incredibly proud of her brother and was overjoyed to be joining him on his overseas journey, she could never admit to him how adorable she thought he was at this moment. He could be pigheaded and stubborn, but he certainly had his moments.

Ron sat back in his chair and tried to stretch out his legs but the person in front of him leaned their chair, ramming it into Ron's knees.

"Ah, bloody hell!" Ron's eyes nearly bugged out of his head as he sat rubbing his knees. "Damn, how are people expected to sit comfortably here? How do muggles travel like this all the time?"

"Ron! Watch it!" Ginny looked at his warningly over Harry who was reading the airplane emergency evacuation guide. "You can't say things like that. Just…just pretend you know what the hell is going on."

"How do you know how everything works, Ms. Smartypants? I can't take all these crazy muggle inventions! Like that thing we had to walk through in the airport. And why'd we have to put our bags through that thing?"

"Ron, I explained this to you already before we got here. Security. It's all about security. A few years ago there was a major terrorist attack on New York so all the major airports have installed much tighter security. Its for you own safety."

Ron looked at his sister in confusion.

"Ron…have you forgotten that I live among muggles?" Ginny whispered across Harry. "Have you forgotten all those stupid muggle TV shows that I used to watch with dad because no one else would? Have you forgotten that I have flown multiple times to New York just so my American publisher could pick me up at the airport and not discover that I'm a witch?"

"Well excuuuuse me for not remembering how perfect my little sister and her muggle lifestyle is!" Ron seemed miffed but Ginny could see that he was fighting to keep from smiling.

"Well you better not forget it again!"

Harry was laughing silently, listening to this sibling exchange. Sometimes he longed for a real family, siblings of his own. But hey, when you've got friends like these…

"Ladies and Gentlemen, would you please focus your attention on the screens in front of you for a short video on airplane safety. Thank you."

Ron and Harry, who had also never flown, watched the video with great interest as the rest of the plane read, slept and talked right through the lifesaving information. Afterwards, as the plane was taxiing and then taking off, Ron looked slightly anxious and Harry noticed he was gripping the arm rests rather tightly. "Hey, mate, calm down. Its just an airplane."

Ron looked at his friend incredulously. "Are you mad! This thing could just plummet down to the earth sending us to our deaths before we could have a chance to apparate out of here!" Ginny giggled at her brother's reaction and leaned over Harry to say, "Ron honestly. You are very paranoid. And you haven't even seen all the airplane hijacker movies." Harry noticed that her hand was on top of his and her head was close enough that he could smell her shampoo. He closed his eyes to enjoy it but lost the moment when Ron nearly screeched, "HIJACKER MOVIES? What the bloody hell?"

"Excuse me sir, could you please keep it down?" A very impatient woman with a two-year old, across from the aisle, looked rather irritated. Ron blushed his classic beet-red and slumped down in his seat. "Sorry, ma'am."

Harry and Ginny laughed at Ron who did not look pleased. He planned not to remove his seatbelt for the entire flight.

Harry looked over at Ginny who was digging in her bag to pull out her laptop. Ron looked over at his sister, "Are you kidding me?"

"What? I'm a writer now. This is what I use."

"But…but it's a…muggle compuper or something."

She sighed and smiled at her brother. "You can be a real ignoramus sometimes. It's called a computer – this is a laptop – and it's a helluva lot easier to use than parchment."

Ron, who was never truly understand the convenience of some muggle products over their wizarding counterparts, shook his head and leaned his seat back. He couldn't believe where he was at that moment, doing what he was doing. _I'm going to see Hermione for the first time in months…and I'm going to tell her…holy shit. This is never going to work! I'm a dead man! No, no, it'll be fine. You know she loves you. You know it. You know it now and you knew it then. That night on the quidditch pitch should've told you everything…_

He closed his eyes and smiled remembering that night – before the screaming started. He remembered how her hair was falling in her face, how little she looked in her giant coat, how sweet she sounded when she nearly told him how she felt.

_I just hope to Merlin that she still feels the same way_. And he let himself fall into a sleep filled with dreams of the past.

Harry was engrossed in a Sky Mall catalog, barely able to control his surprise and excitement by some of the new-fangled muggle inventions. "I had no idea…" he kept whispering to himself. Though he was muggle-born, the Dursleys never let him go to any malls or even bought stuff that was half as cool as the stuff in this catalog. He was just utterly astounded by some of the brilliantly practical items that muggles had created.

"Hey, Harry." Ginny nudged Harry with her elbow. "I don't mean to distract you, because I can see that you are really engrossed in that literature right there, but look at my brother." Harry looked to his left to see Ron snoring, with his mouth open and a little bit of drool coming out of this mouth. Harry tried hard not to laugh. He'd seen Ron in nearly that exact position many times over the past years but every time it made him laugh. "Do you have a camera Gin?" Ginny handed him her cell phone. Luckily, he'd had enough practice with such electronics to know how to take a picture with one. "We'll want to show that one to Hermione when we get there."

Ginny smiled. "Yeah. Definitely." She put her cell phone back in her purse and put her hands on her keyboard as if to start typing again, but then stopped herself. Leaning her head against the headrest she started thinking about what was happening – Ron running to tell Hermione that he loved her and wanted her to come home – and what had happened – herself kissing Harry after so long and finding out that he was actually in love with her. A huge grin crept up on her face and she looked at Harry, who had gone back to reading the magazine.

He looked like a little kid in a toy store. His eyes had lit up and he was muttering to himself about "genius inventions". Ginny sometimes felt more muggle than Harry acted, since she seemed to know more about their lifestyles than an actual muggle-born. Still looking at him out of the corner of her eye, she started laughing to herself.

How many years had she known him? 8? 9? And how many years had she known _of_ him? Since the day she was born! Here she was on an airplane, headed to America, with the famous Harry Potter, the boy who lived. She couldn't believe the hand Fate had dealt her. She thought back on all those years at Hogwarts when she had been a little weakling, naïve and frightened of everything. She recalled how grateful she had been to have Tom Riddle's diary as a friend, only to be horribly distraught to discover that it had been using her to get close to Harry, the boy she thought she loved with all her heart. She remembered waking up in the hospital wing after Harry had saved her from Tom's basilisk and finding Hermione, petrified, across the room. She was scared and hurt and terribly upset. But when Harry and her brothers came by to check on her, some of her fear went away.

Ginny smiled as she remembered the summer of the Quidditch World Cup and how surprised Harry had been when she spoke to him. She had actually surprised herself; being a 13-year old girl, she should've been timid and self-conscious and intimidated by every boy she met. But by that point, Ginny had grown tired of always feeling timid and self-conscious and intimidated by anybody, so she resolved to give it all up and just be herself. It had worked thus far.

Ginny closed her laptop, leaned back and closed her eyes as she thought about the night by the fire. Perhaps it wasn't all that historic, but to her, it was as important a day as her first at Hogwarts. That was the night she fell in love with Harry Potter, the boy, and gave up her fantasies of Harry Potter, the boy who lived. That was the night she learned Harry's secrets and fears and all the details of the night at the cemetery. He told her things she never imagined she'd find out: what really happened when the trio went down the trap door, how Ron actually reacted when nearly attacked by giant spiders in the forest, what the Slytherin common room looked like, why the Shrieking Shack was 'haunted', what the mermaid underworld looked like, what happened with Cho Chang, why Snape hated Harry, what happened in Hogsmeade, how Harry felt about his family, his friends, school, the war, everything. They must've stayed up till after dawn.

And they continued meeting for the rest of Harry's schooling, up until he left Hogwarts to go fight Voldemort; they'd meet in secret corridors found on the marauder's map or they'd sneak outside using Harry's invisibility cloak; sometimes they'd go to the library and sit in the restricted section and just talk, sometimes peering into and laughing at Naughty Charms and Sinful Spells, Love Slave Potions or Other Ways to Use Your Dungeon. She started laughing at that particular memory, remembering the preposterous scenarios they dreamed up involving Snape and members of the Slytherin house.

"What's so funny?" Harry had put away the catalog and was now looking at Ginny, wanting to be in on whatever joke had made her laugh so.

"Oh, nothing, just…" she almost couldn't bring herself to say it. "Just…do you remember when we used to go to the restricted section of the library?" Harry nodded. "Well, do you remember that book about dungeons? And what we said Snape must do with –"

"- with Draco and the rest of his cronies! Yes!" Suddenly Harry was laughing hysterically.

"With the chains and shackles on the walls!"

"And all the things that must be locked away in his secret cabinets."

"Or what he really used all his potions for."

The two were off in another world laughing. Ginny wiped the tears away from her eyes as the laughter finally died away. Harry was staring at her. "Ginny, you're gorgeous when you laugh."

That sobered her up. She stared back at Harry and saw love-filled desire written all over his face. She wanted to kiss him again so badly, but didn't want her brother to wake up and see them in such a compromising situation (it had been a while since he'd seen them like that), or have the other passengers upset by their display of PDA. She reached over and touched his hand.

Harry looked down, almost surprised by the touch, and smiled. He absolutely loved being with her and couldn't stop thinking about kissing her in the park in Paris. He knew he was lousy with women, but with Ginny he didn't have to try. He could just be himself. He didn't have to hide a damn thing. Well, except for the fact that he was in love with her, but he was really only hiding that from her family. He'd managed to survive Voldemort's wrath but didn't know if he could handle the Weasleys'. He leaned over to kiss her, but she backed away.

"Harry, I have an idea." A smile spread across her face, and she unbuckled her seatbelt. "Have you ever heard of the Mile High Club?" She stood up in the aisle, but Harry looked at her dumbfounded. The Mile High Club? No, he had never heard of it.

She started walking towards the back of the plane and looked over her shoulder making a 'come hither' gesture. And then it hit him…the Mile High Club. He smiled and unbuckled his seat belt.

Kevin and Hermione had moved to her couch. They were cuddling and he was stroking her hair. She had broken down and told him stories from her days at Hogwarts – rather revised stories, that is. She even told him about the fight they had before she left – though she had to invent another reason for her leaving since she had left out the whole bit about the war.

"Ron held a special place in your heart, that much is clear. And I'm sure you meant a lot to him too." He held her close. That's when a something that was obvious to everyone else occurred to Hermione: the reason Ron had been so angry at her when she left was that he had feelings for her! _I am such an idiot…_

"Well, you would never have known it from the way he treated me. Half the time he was insulting me or criticizing my way of doing things or making fun of me for being studious. And then he'd turn around and defend me or ask me to go into town with him or help me research something in the library. He was very frustrating."

"So let's see? He was mean to you and defended you? Yep, sounds like love to me." Kevin tickled Hermione causing her to squeal. "Boys can be stupid, you have to know that by now Hermione. We do not take subtle hints. You have to beat us over the head with the facts before we have any clue what you're talking about." She grinned. Kevin was right. Despite the fact that she had beaten Ron over the head with many books and homework assignments, she had never done so with how she felt. Now who was the stupid one?

Hermione snuggled up to Kevin as best she could on the stool. She loved being in his arms. He held her with care and ran his fingers up and down her arm. She could stay like this for a long time. But in the back of her mind there was always someone else, someone else waiting to be holding her, someone she was waiting for.

"Kevin, I –"

But before she could say what she needed to say, Kevin held a finger up to her lips and shushed her. "Hermione, listen to me. You are indeed one of the most amazing women I have ever had the good fortune to get my hands upon." Hermione smiled at him and opened her mouth to say something, but Kevin continued. "You are intelligent and funny and very nice to look at. You are thoughtful and compassionate and a damn fine kisser, among other things." She opened her mouth, again, out of mock indignation, but he closed it and continued. "But there is also a lot about you that I don't know. I would consider myself the luckiest man in the world if I could spend an indefinite number of years learning everything about you and….and loving you." Hermione nearly melted in her chair when he said that. Kevin was the closest thing to a perfect man – discounting his quirks and flaws of course – that she had ever met. How could she let him go? Kevin kissed her quietly on the lips; Hermione closed her eyes, reveling in his adoration. He pulled back, placing his hand on the side of her face, brushing her mad morning hair away from her face. "But, Hermione, sweet, wonderful, Hermione, as much as I crave to do those things with you, I think there is already someone out there who already _knows_ you and _loves_ you more than you could know." She sat up, surprised at what he was saying. He sighed and looked at her lovingly. He took her hand in his and stood up. "And I can't let you make the same mistake that I made."

Hermione felt her eyes welling with tears. Suddenly it felt as if a huge boulder had been lifted from her shoulders; her emotions stopped battling inside and she felt a strange peace within herself. It had taken another man to knock some sense into her. She knew what she needed to do.


	9. Road Trips and Hallway Happenings

Chapter 9: Roadtrips and Hallway Happenings

"So why is it again that we have to rent a bloody car thingy again?" Ron was lugging everyone's luggage into the trunk of the rental car. "We don't even know how to _get_ to Salem!" Ron threw the last bag in the trunk and slammed it shut.

"Because there are no Amtrak trains running to Salem from New York and the quickest and easiest way to get there from here is to take a car. Now get in. Harry, you're up front with me."

Ginny stepped into the driver's seat and turned on the car. Harry got in, looking around the car before strapping in. "This is nice. Better than the Dursley's." Ron knocked his head on the frame as he got in. "Dammit! Bloody hell…" he mumbled curses to himself as he got settled in the back. Ginny strapped in and turned on the car as the boys fumbled with their seat belts.

"Are you two ready?"

"Are you sure you can drive this thing?"

"Ron," Ginny, looked over her shoulder to back out of the parking lot. "It's just a car. I have driven one before. Yes, in the States, Harry, there's no need to look at me like that. And out of the three of us, I'm the only one who has a license, so, buckle up!" She pulled out on the road and sped off laughing, leaving Harry and Ron making sure their buckles were tight enough.

As they were driving, Ron stared out the window. He was in a foreign country ruled by muggles, riding in a muggle contraption (that could break down and leave them stranded at any moment, who could trust muggle magic?) and in about four hours he would be in a strange city about to talk to a girl he hadn't seen in months. He had no idea what to expect from the whole adventure, but he found himself smiling as he imagined standing in front of Hermione, hugging Hermione, kissing Hermione, telling Hermione…

Telling Hermione what? That's what Ron realized he had absolutely no idea what the hell he was going to say to her. He leaned back in the seat and closed his eyes as he thought of all the opportunities he'd had in the past to talk to her and how he'd blown those. Why would this time be any different? He hadn't talked to Hermione in 9 months; he hadn't even received a letter from her. He knew he would need to say something very suave and sophisticated and well articulated to be able to compete with whatever men Hermione had surely met while in America. He grimaced. He couldn't pull that off if his life depended on it.

Sighing, Ron opened his eyes and glanced up front. They'd been gone for two hours already and Ron had just begun to notice the strange behavior of the two up front. He looked at them curiously. Harry was looking at Ginny with an unfamiliar look in his eyes; _Why the hell is Harry staring at my sister like that?_ Ron could feel an old familiar rush of temper flaring up inside him. Breathing heavily out, he let it go. He didn't want to assume anything, act rashly like he so often did and blow this day before it began. Harry and Ginny were doing him a huge favor by coming on this trip with him. Hell, they were saving his English arse. If it hadn't been for his sister, he wouldn't be here right now…

Yet, yet he couldn't help but notice how Ginny sparkled when she laughed with Harry or that she had inched her right hand over to rest on Harry's leg. Ron opened his mouth to say something about it, but shut it when his sister burst out laughing again. He smiled; he loved seeing his family happy. And he'd been wondering when they'd finally get back together.

He closed his eyes, trying to ignore the increasing flirtation occurring in the front seat and forget the increasing nervous butterflies in his stomach.

"Hey Ron, you ok, mate?" Harry had turned around and was looking at Ron. "You don't look so good." Ron hadn't realized that he had scrunched up his face and was holding his stomach.

"Oh, no. I'm fine. Just…just nerves I guess. I dunno…" He looked out the window. Ginny looked in the rearview mirror back at her brother before changing lanes and speeding up. "Don't worry big brother, we should be there in a couple hours."

"I know. That's why I'm a little tense."

Ginny smiled. "Ron, why are you so nervous? Its just Hermione."

"Exactly."

Harry turned back to face the front. "Ron, its not that big a deal. Just tell Hermione that you're madly in love with her and want her to come home with you."

"Harry! It's not exactly that easy. I can't mess this up. It has to go perfectly."

"Ron, no matter what you say, Hermione will be glad to hear it. She'll just be glad to see you. Besides, from what I understand, she already knows."  
Ron looked sharply up at his sister. "What? What does she already know?"

Harry turned to face his dense friend. "How you feel. I thought that you guys practically told one another the summer after 6th year?"

Ron sighed, "Ok, well, technically I guess that's what we were doing, sure, but it didn't exactly go as planned, and we've never actually, I guess, confessed how we really feel. It's all been a bunch of assuming. And we all know what happens when you assume."

"Yep. It makes an ass out of you!" Ginny's eyes twinkled as she smiled at her brother.

"Hey! I do that enough on my own, thank you very much." Ron slumped back in his seat groaning. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do. And no, Harry, I don't believe it's that easy. Besides, when have you _ever_ confessed to a girl that you had serious feelings for her?" Ron looked pointedly at Harry, who shifted uncomfortably in his seat and mumbled some incoherent response. He didn't exactly feel like getting into the subject of his and Ginny's love tryst in Paris. "Yeah, that's what I thought." Ron said triumphantly.

"Ron, if you want to know the truth, a girl just likes to hear that someone loves her. No matter how you say whatever you choose to say, Hermione will start crying. You know that. It doesn't matter what you say as long as you mean it, and we all know you're very serious about how you feel for Hermione." Ron noticed that Harry was staring avidly at Ginny as she spoke and when she finished, she looked at him and smiled contentedly. Something was going on, Ron knew it. But he didn't need any more stress, so he let it go.

"I hope you two are right." He unbuckled and stretched his lanky body as far as it could go in the back seat. "Wake me up when we get there."

"Christine! Yes…please. As soon as you can…..what? No! He's not here….please just come back to the apartment….I don't care if he's using whip cream and chocolate sauce, you can see him tonight. I need you here now…..no, I will not bring out the whip cream, for Merlin's sake, Christine!" Hermione hung up her phone in a huff. Sometimes Christine could be so crude.

Hermione was ripping through her closet, pulling out clothes and throwing them on her bed. She was still wearing the too-small pajama bottoms but had put on a long-sleeved blue t-shirt. Her hair was a mess, but pulled back. She was on her knees, crouched down, looking under her bed for something, cursing to herself when she heard the front door open. She scrambled to get up and tripped out of the room.

"Bloody hell, what are you wearing?"

"Language, Hermione!" Christine smiled at her friend who was rubbing a stubbed toe. "You sort of interrupted us, so I just threw on whatever I could find." Christine didn't look any better than Hermione, in a pair of blue and white striped boxers, a football jersey, socks and flip-flops; her hair, too, was pulled back and Hermione noticed a bit of whipped cream on her hair line. She just shook her head not even wanting to know. "Now, what the hell was so important that you had to pull me away from a wonderful mid-morning romp."

"Christine, it's 11:30 in the morning. I didn't think you'd already be whipping out the ice cream toppings. No, but that's not the point. No, I don't want to know what else was going on. I just need your help." She walked back into her room and Christine followed her.

"Looks like the last battle was fought in here." Hermione glared at her roommate who flushed. "Sorry about the reference. Just slipped out. Anyway, what are you doing? And why is your suitcase out?" Realization dawned upon her. "Oh my God! Are you going to England? Did you dump Kevin? Are you going to go to that red-headed muffin cake of yours?"

"He is not a muffin cake and yes, I suppose I am going to England. That's what I wanted to talk to you about. I…I, well this morning, I talked to Kevin and realized you were right. I need to, uh, well, go back and...face what I've been running from. And since you're leaving in a couple days for that internship (Christine beamed at the mention of her accomplishment), I was thinking that I would just, uh, go with you?" Hermione looked at her friend for some sort of approval. "Do you think it's too soon?"

"Too soon! Hermione are you crazy? It's been too long! Hurry up and pack, we'll leave tomorrow if you want."

"Tomorrow! Oh, I don't know if I can go that soon!" Hermione sat down on the side of the bed, wringing her hands. Suddenly she became very nervous. "What am I supposed to say, Christine? I haven't seen or spoken to him in months! What if I get over there and make a big fool of myself for nothing. What if he's found someone else?"

"So what? Tell him you know he loves you too and smack the bitch –"

"Christine!"

"Ok, so don't smack her. Just ask her kindly to stop humping your true love."

"Christine!"  
"Sorry, been around Paul too much…But seriously Hermione, don't worry about it. I'm sure he'll be ecstatic." Christine smiled and sat down next to her friend. "I know he will be very happy to see you. You've been gone too long."

Hermione sighed. Maybe Christine was right. Ginny mentioned how much Ron longed for her in nearly every letter she sent, but sometimes Hermione felt as if Ginny were exaggerating to just get her to come home. She did miss the red-headed witch, and the rest of the Weasleys, but she just didn't know how she would go home. It seemed like it'd been forever. And Harry…she wondered how Harry had been. He had seemed so different last time she saw everyone; much quieter and happier. And rather in love with Ginny though she wondered if he ever realized that and told her?

Hermione looked at Christine who had found the whipped cream and was trying to get it out of her hair. Laughing, she said, "Whipped cream? Really? What ever made you want to try it?"

Christine smiled. "I dunno, it just seemed interesting. You should try it Hermione! Walk up to Ron's front door carrying a can of whipped cream and when he opens the door say, as seductively as you can, mind you, 'I've been a bad girl for not coming home sooner and need to be punished' before covering yourself in whipped cream." Hermione just stared at her friend. She could never imagine herself or Ron doing such a thing. "Um…no…no thank you. But what _am_ I supposed to say?"

"Nothing. Just kiss him."

Hermione sighed. Christine sure had a one track mind at times. "Ok, since you're not being helpful there, will you at least help me figure out what to take to wear? I'm useless at being a girl."

The girls stood up and surveyed Hermione's strewn wardrobe. Christine started pulling pieces of clothing together as Hermione stooped on the ground searching under her bed again. "Aha!" She pulled out a small wooden box with a flourish but stopped suddenly.

Someone was knocking on the door.

Ginny exited off the highway and looked at her map. "We're pretty close now. Here Harry, you can read maps can't you? Be navigator. Which way do I need to go?"

"Ok, go straight on Center St. and when you get to Winter St., make a right."

Ron sat up straight, and tried stretching. His nerves were causing him to sweat. He'd done a lot of things in his life that were far more frightening than talk to Hermione. But at that exact moment, facing a gaggle of Dementors or challenging Malfoy to a duel seemed less intimidating and a bit more fun.

Zoning out, Ron didn't hear Harry's last slew of directions, or notice the various wrong turns and U-turns they made, but as soon as they pulled up to an old apartment building and Ginny turned off the car, Ron snapped back to reality. Ginny and Harry turned around to face Ron. "Ok, Ronnikins. Ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be." Ron opened his door and stretched. He tried to calm himself, but scenes from the past kept shooting through his brain: the Yule Ball, the day in Hogsmeade, the night in the park, last Christmas… He shook his head to clear his mind and Ginny stood on her tiptoes to fix his hair. "There ya go! You look fabulous!" She kissed him on the cheek and locked the car. Harry walked around the front of the car, carrying a small back pack, putting his arm around Ginny. She smiled at him, causing Ron to frown at him. Harry removed his arm, laughing nervously, hoping his blunder wouldn't upset the red-headed giant.

"Harry," began Ron, as he stepped towards his friend, "I've been meaning to ask you…"

But Ginny intervened. "Oh, look at the time! Ron, we better get a move on. Apartment 312." Ginny motioned towards the brick building. "Good luck, Romeo."

Ron sighed and looked up at the building. "Alright, you guys wait here?"

Harry nodded. "Uh, sure-"

"What? I thought we were going to-"

Harry stepped on Ginny's foot. "I'll keep her out of trouble." He placed his arm around Ginny's shoulder, but Ron was far too nervous to notice. He opened the lobby door and stepped inside.

"What the hell? Keep me out of trouble? I thought-"

Harry shushed her and unzipped his backpack. "Calm down, Gin. Don't you trust me? I didn't fly 3000 miles not to see this historic moment. Its been waiting to happen for more than 7 years!" He pulled out a silvery cloak and dropped his backpack. "Tada!"

"Oh Harry! You're brilliant!" Ginny threw her arms around his neck and kissed him fiercely. Harry pulled his cloak over the two of them, casting them into the world of invisibility.

Hermione came back from the front door into her bedroom to find Christine going through her underwear drawer. "It was just some little boys raising money for their baseball team. They've been around here six times in three days already…Christine! What are you doing?"  
"Looking at your very sexy granny panties." She held up a large elasticy pair of underpants. "I bet Kevin got a kick out of these."

Scoffing, Hermione ripped her underwear out of Christine's hands. "Would you refrain from putting your dirty paws on my underpants! And no, Kevin did not see _these_." She dropped them and pulled out a cute purple pair of bikini bottoms. "He saw these." She giggled at herself as she put her underwear back in her drawer.

"Well, you have to throw those nasty old things out and _only_ take the normal sized ones with you to England. Full-bottomed undies are one thing, but when they come up past your waist, they are too big and I don't think Ron would appreciate-"

Just then, another knock on the door. Hermione heavy sighed. How many times had she told those kids to bugger off? Christine put down a particularly hideous blouse of Hermione's and suggested she go tell the little pests to go away.

"No Christine, you will scare them!"

"No I wont. I promise." Christine walked out of the room before Hermione could stop her. "Christine! Please, just let me handle it. I don't want any angry parents coming to my door! " She ran out of the room and practically leapt on her roommate to keep her from harassing some poor, innocent children.

Ron stood in front of the door to apartment 312. He rose his hand to knock and then lowered it. _Stop being a chicken shit,_ he told himself. _Its just Hermione. Just be cool. This is no big deal. Its just…_ "…the biggest moment of your life." He said out loud. George's words came back to him

_… And you are going to find her, and the first thing that you are going to do when you see her is pull her tight to you and kiss her harder than you've kissed anybody in your entire life. And then you are going to look her squarely in the face and say four things: I love you, Hermione. I always have and I always will. I'm sorry for being an idiot. Please come home with me…_

Ron snapped out of his reverie and stood up straight. He smoothed his shirt and raised his hand, again, to knock. Knock, knock.

He stood still, waiting, very tense. A few seconds went by.

_Maybe she's not home. _

Then some noise coming from inside. A few more seconds.

_Maybe she knows it's me and doesn't want to see me…_

More noise. Girl voices. Voices? Ron leaned forward to put his ear to the door and listen when the door was suddenly thrust open. He moved forward to follow George's instructions and stopped suddenly, surprised, because it was not Hermione who answered the door.

Christine, who was about to say something very rude to a bunch of 10 year olds, opened her mouth in surprise. Standing in front of her was not a bunch of short, scruffy, annoying 10 year olds, but a tall, handsome, red-headed English man. She glanced quickly behind her (to see Hermione struggling to stand up after leaping and falling) and back at the tall, very attractive man who had a very confused look on his face. "Who-?" she heard him say just before slamming the door in his face.

Ron stood there, dumbfounded. This was supposed to be Hermione's apartment…maybe that was her roommate. But why in the world had she looked at him like that? And why in the bloody hell did she…

"…slam the door in my face!" Ron stood there, indignant. Now that he was irritated, he had completely forgotten how nervous he was, and started pounding on the door.

"Christine! What was that?" Hermione stood up, staring at her roommate who was standing very stiffly up against the door with a plastered smile on her face.

"Nothing. No one. Nothing at all." How was she going to handle this? Hermione would have a cow seeing the very red-headed man on her doorstep that she was running to England to tell she loved. She looked a mess. She needed to change. She couldn't let him see her like this. "Maybe you should change."

Hermione did not understand, or like, her roommate's strange behavior. "Why? Why do I need to change? Who was it?" She was beginning to get suspicious. "Move. Let me see. Who is it?" She pushed Christine aside who now stood off in the kitchen, wringing her hands.

Hermione looked at her friend, shaking her head and opened the door.

Ron was about to start shouting at the very rude American girl when the door opened again. He opened his mouth to say something but stopped, surprised to see a very disheveled and wide-eyed Hermione standing in front of him. She opened her mouth to say something but closed it.

"Hermione, I - " he stepped forward, but before he could finish his statement, she slammed the door in his face.

"Hermione, what did you do that for?" Christine stepped out of the kitchen, hands in the air. "That was your chance!"

"Why is he here? Did you call him? Oh Merlin's beard, do you see what I look like? Why is he here! How did he find me! Oh, no! This is so bad!" Hermione's voice got higher and more panicked with every statement. Christine, who was just as surprised as Hermione was to see Ron, put her hands on Hermione's face to calm her down. "Hermione. It's him. It's Ron. You know Ron. Just talk to him."  
Hermione looked truly panicked. Her eyes were wide and her hair had started coming madly out of her pony tail. "No. No. Not like this." And she ran into her room, leaving Christine alone in the kitchen.

Ron stood there, completely flabbergasted for a few moments before regaining conscious thought. Hermione had just seen him and slammed the door in his face. Fantastic. He hadn't even spoken, and already she was slamming doors at him. Well, fabulous, this day was turning out to be just great.

He knocked again. Even if it wasn't going very well, he hadn't said what he had come to say and that was the least he was going to do, if anything.

No answer. He knocked a little louder. Still nothing.

So he turned the knob and peaked inside. The girls were nowhere to be seen. He opened the door a bit wider. "Hello? Hermione? Uh…is it alright if I come in?" He stepped inside the apartment and wiped his feet on the rug. "Um…I'm coming in? Christine? Hermione?" He saw that the door to the bedroom was shut, so he quietly closed the front door and approached the bedroom door handle. He knocked quietly.

Out in the hallway, two very audible sighs could be heard.

"My God, I thought he was never going to get in."

"I know! That was ridiculous."

"Rather amusing, though, you have to admit. I wish we could have recorded it and replayed it later for them, just so they could see how silly they were all being."

"I'm just glad he didn't see us."

"How could he have seen us, Ginny? That's why this is called an invisibility cloak! Hey, watch it!"

"What? You said it was invisible. So no one could see me do it!"  
"So, someone could walk by and hear you-"

"Well, then we'll just have to be very quiet, now won't we?" And she kissed him, just to shut him up.


	10. Reunited

Chapter 10: Reunited

Ron knocked tentatively on the bedroom door, disbelieving what had just happened. Nothing could have gone farther from the plan. He just hoped that everything would eventually fall into place. He'd come too far.

When no one answered his knock he pushed the door open and stuck his head inside. He first saw Christine, in her strange attire, standing over Hermione's bed, looking concerned. As soon as she saw him, she came over to the door and motioned for him to come in so she could slip out.

"I'll just be out here…actually, Hermione, if you don't mind, I might just go back to Paul's. You know. The whip cream is probably melted by now…" she tried to relieve the tension but shrugged her shoulders and left Ron, who was trying to imagine what whipped cream had to do with anything, with Hermione, who had buried herself under her covers.

"Um…Hermione, I…we need to talk." Ron stood awkwardly, waiting for Hermione to say something. It had been so long since he'd seen her that when she came out from under the covers, he almost didn't recognize her. Granted, she still had the same big, brown hair, but her face looked different, tanner, a little healthier and her clothes seemed completely out of character. But he ignored that and just looked at her, and smiled. He was just glad to see her. "Hi."

She thought that was a rather odd thing to say, but smiled anyway. "Hi."

"Odd day, eh?" Ron ran his hand through his hair, nervously.

"You always did that."

"Oh, what? That? Yeah, habit I guess." He put his hand in his pocked to refrain from doing it again. "You look, uh, different. I mean, not bad, but just different. In a good way. Not that you didn't look good before, but um…crikey, I'm bad at this. Hermione, I've missed you."

Hermione, still in shock to see Ron standing in her bedroom in Salem, couldn't meet his eyes. Something wasn't right about this. She hadn't had time to think through what she wanted and needed to say to him. Clearly he had, otherwise why had he come all this way? But she had no bloody clue what to say.

"Do you mind if I sit down?" Ron knew he wasn't following George's instructions right away, but he would get to them. He had surprised her, and not necessarily in a good way.

"That's fine." She still wouldn't look at him.

"I just flew more than 3000 miles to see you. I've missed you and needed to talk to you for quite a while. I haven't exactly thought through what I want to say, I guess I was hoping it would come to me." He paused, noticing that her hair had fallen into her face as it so often had. He moved his hand to brush it away, and still she didn't look at him. "But uh, Hermione, listen, I've been thinking a lot about this very moment. And to be perfectly honest, its not exactly happening the way I hoped it would. So, could you at least look at me? I have to tell you something."

Ron could hardly believe how calm he was acting. Maybe it was the adrenaline of finally doing what should've been done years before, but he thought he was being rather cool about it. Hermione was surprised by his tone of voice, as well. He had already allowed the nervousness out and seemed to be rather comfortable. She looked up at his big brown eyes to see something she'd seen so many times in the past and did nothing about; his eyes were twinkling as they looked her over; his face spread into a smile causing small crinkles to appear around his eyes. He looked not only happy to see her, but more handsome than she had ever noticed before. She couldn't help but see that he was looking her up and down, focusing on her lips before moving up to her eyes and finally her out-of-control hair. He reached over to push another tendril behind her ear and she nearly shuddered from the touch.

She pushed the hair behind her ear and then creased her brow. A thought had occurred to her. "You _flew_ here? As in an airplane, or as in a fireplace?"

"An airplane."

"You, Ron Weasley, flew on an airplane to come talk to me?" She was in shock. Now she was just staring at him in awe.

"Uh, yeah. Yeah I guess I did." He started to blush when he smiled.

"Wow. I never thought I'd live to see the day…when did you decided to travel like a muggle?" She had sat up and tried smoothing her hair a bit.

"Well," Ron ran his hand up his neck but caught himself and put it back down. "Aside from nearly plummeting to our deaths from the sky, and having to trust Ginny's driving, I've taken a liking to many muggle things. Look, I even have a cell phone!" He whipped out his Nokia and showed Hermione who was merely staring at Ron in shock.

"Ginny? Is she here?"

"Um, yeah, she and Harry are waiting outside for me...uh, to…" suddenly nervous, Ron felt his face reddening as it so often did in the past.

"To what, Ron?" Hermione, though in shock, was finally starting to feel a little more comfortable and remembered why it was she was planning on going back to England. She became very conscious of her mismatched outfit and stood up slowly to move towards her closet.

"To, uh…" Ron noticed she was getting up, and said, "To do this." He leaned over, pulled her back down and leaned in very close to her face.

Hermione felt herself breathe in sharply and close her eyes. The moment she'd dreamed about for years was finally happening except it was nothing like she had expected. It wasn't a romantic walk on the Hogwarts grounds or a stroll through a park. She wasn't dressed nicely and her hair was actively doing its best to fly off her head. But Ron was here, blushing as usual, holding her and moving in for a kiss. And that's when she started to laugh.

Ron pulled back abruptly before he even had a chance to kiss her and looked at Hermione with a puzzled expression on his face. Why the hell was she giggling like that?

"What the-"

"I'm sorry Ron, it's just…" Hermione controlled herself and looked at him. For the first time in nine months she really looked at him, at his soft, gentle brown eyes, the tenderness in them shining through with an exuberant force. She reached up and touched his ruffled red hair. It used to be much longer back during school days, but she liked it now, just long enough to get ruffled. She licked her lips and then closed them tightly, thinking. He had changed physically ever so slightly: A few more freckles around his nose, his eyebrows seemed darker, he seemed a bit more in shape. Yet there he was, staring at her with a too familiar look on his face. At first he seemed hurt that she had started laughing but now he was just looking at her, almost smiling, content to just be with her and Hermione could practically smell his love radiating off of him. She smiled up at him and leaned forward, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Oof.." she knocked him over onto the bed, hugging him with such a force that he had trouble breathing. But he didn't mind, because he had her, he had her exactly where he wanted and was willing to stay there forever.

"I'm glad you're here." Hermione whispered into his ear, and he could feel hot breath and warm tears on his neck.

"What? Hermione? Are you – oh, no no, don't cry!" He started laughing a little, sitting upright, bringing her with him. "Don't cry! I haven't even said what I needed to say yet!" She started laughing through her tears. "What is it you needed to say, Ron?" She wiped her eyes and laughed again before settling down and looking at him.

"Well, first, this." He leaned forward quickly, catching her off guard, kissing her hard on the mouth. She nearly fell backward but leaned into his mouth, reveling in his soft lips and the salty moisture of his tongue. The kiss was not much different from any other kiss either of them had enjoyed with any other person - sweet and firm, wet and slightly fumbly - but for once they both were kissing the person they were always thinking of whenever they were kissing anyone else. Ron reached up to Hermione's head and pulled her closer, entangling his fingers in her hair; the kiss deepened and Hermione leaned closer to Ron, pushing him on his back once more. Ron reached up with his other hand and wrapped it around Hermione's body, allowing himself to touch her for the first time.

When they finally parted for some air, Hermione sighed, saying, "Well said."

"Oh yeah." Ron laughed, sitting up on his elbows and looking at Hermione, who had rolled over on her side and was now looking at him intently. "Well, what I actually needed to say…was, uh, well," Ron didn't want to stutter through the most important thing he had ever told anyone so he sat up and took Hermione's hand in his, looking down at the bed. If he had to look in her eyes, he knew he'd fumble it: "I love you, Hermione. I always have and I always will. I'm sorry for being an idiot. Please come home with me." Once it had all tumbled out, he dared look at her face. He could see tears forming in her eyes and a coat-hanger smile on her face.

"Oh, Ron…" She sat up and hugged him again. "Oh, Ron…I…I don't know what to say…"

"Say yes."

"Yes. Of course I'll come home. In fact…in fact I had already decided to come home; I was going to be leaving with Christine in a couple days. I was actually going to be coming home to tell you that I loved you."

"Oh, so basically I flew on a plane when I didn't have to?" He grinned at her and ran his hand through her hair. "God, I've missed this hair. You know, too many witches try to control their hair with flattening potions and straightening charms. Why cant they just let it be natural?"

"You're mad."

"Mad about you."

She slapped him lightly on the shoulder. "You've been watching too many Hollywood romances. That was bad."

"Yeah, but you liked it. Don't deny it. You liked it."

"Just shut up and kiss me again." And Ron happily obliged.

Out in the hallway, Harry and Ginny finally took a breath. "Whoa, that was…intense." Harry took his glasses off to clear off the steam. Ginny readjusted her shirt and nodded. "Yeah. Wow. Ok, maybe we should go inside, see how things are progressing?"

"With or without the cloak?"  
"With. Just to be sure."

Harry and Ginny tiptoed up to the door and pushed it open. Hopefully no one heard it creak. They managed to make it inside and close the door without making a noise, so they crawled into the living room and stood just outside the bedroom, whose door was now open. They could easily hear Ron and Hermione talking; she was picking up clothes from the ground and her bed, folding and packing them. Ron was sitting on the bed, leaning up against the wall with his arms behind his head.

"Do you remember that night outside number 12?"

"How could I forget? I still get goose pimples thinking about it sometimes."

"Yeah, it was pretty crazy, wasn't it? I just remember being so angry about buggering the whole thing up that sometimes I forgot what it was we were trying to tell one another."

"Buggering it up? Ron, you didn't bugger anything up. We both agreed not to talk about it and then the attacks started…there wasn't really anything we could do."

"But Hermione, now that I think about it, I think we were wrong not to talk about it. I think, I think that it would've made things easier, eased some of the tension that was always between us. Why do you think I yelled at you so much?"

"We stopped fighting shortly after that night, though, don't you think?"  
"But what about since the war ended? There was always such...hostility-"

"Hostility? Between us? I never saw it as such! I always felt a bit uncomfortable with you because I couldn't be completely honest with you, but I don't remember being hostile!"

"Ok, maybe not hostile, but a definite tension that I hated every second. Half the time I just wanted to snog you on the spot but had to seriously control my actions."

"Is that why you seemed glazed over sometimes?"

"Probably. Just trying not to act rashly."

"You? Act rashly? Who would ever think? Ha." Hermione laughed. Harry and Ginny smiled at one another. Then Harry thought of something and motioned for Ginny to follow him to the far end of the living room.

"What?" She mouthed at him.

"I don't think we should tell your brother," Harry whispered.

"What? About…ohhh, um, why not? Its not that surprising…" Ginny understood not telling Ron right away, but now that he had Hermione, he would surely be much more understanding.

"I just think it would be smart not to mention it for a while." Harry looked down at the ground thoughtfully. "Maybe not ever."

"Never? What? You're nutters! We are going to tell them. Very soon."

"Them! Oh right, the rest of your family…" Harry muttered to himself.

"Listen, Harry, we don't have to tell them right away. We can wait, if you want. But we _are_ going to tell them. But for now, it can be our secret, ok?" She smiled at him and kissed him lightly. She wrapped her arms around his head, careful not to upset the cloak, and pulled him closer. "I'm just glad we all finally had the nerve to tell one another how we really felt. Its rather ridiculous that its taken us this long hasn't it?"

"Yes. Yes it is."

Then Hermione and Ron came out into the living room. "So, when were you going to be leaving?"

"Probably in two or three days. Christine got an internship in London and I was just going to go with her." Hermione was in the kitchen, putting away dishes. Ginny noted the short PJ pants and muffled a snicker. Ron had sat himself at the counter.

"An internship? What's that? Like an apprenticeship?"

"Yes, sort of. It's at an ad agency."

"What's this?" Ron was grinning ear to ear, holding up the old photo of himself from 6th year that was on Hermione's counter. Her eyes widened, not remembering bringing it back out here. Perhaps Christine had put it back there just to mess with her head.

"Um, yeah. Christine likes to have it out here to look at when she's eating her breakfast."

"Don't lie." Ron smiled. "You have it out here because you like to look at me." He started taunting her. "You like me, you like me!"

Ginny rolled her eyes. For someone who had just realized that he was madly in love with someone, Ron was being a twit. She looked at Harry and motioned for him to follow him. They moved silently through the living room until they were standing just behind Ron. She held up her fingers and counted, 1. 2.

"You like – ARGH!" Ron flew backwards as Ginny and Harry revealed themselves, shouting 'BOO'. Hermione, startled as well, dropped a glass in the kitchen and shrieked. Harry and Ginny started laughing. Then Harry started imitating his friend, "You like me, you like me."

"Oh, you bloody bastard. I'm gonna kick your arse!" Ron held up his fist in mock anger but started laughing. Hermione was still in shock from two people suddenly appearing in her living room. "When did you two get here?"  
Ginny answered very non-chalantly, "Oh, we've been here the whole time, waiting and _waiting_ for you two to hurry things up. I am SO happy its all worked out now. You love him, he loves you and now we can all go home." She ran into the kitchen and threw her arms around Hermione. "Oh, Hermione. I've missed you. Its so good to see you…though not in those clothes." Ginny whisked out her wand and magicked Hermione into a new, outfit: black capris, a black t-shirt and black sandals. Though she rarely wore black, Hermione rather liked it. "Very Parisian!" Ginny declared, clapping her hands together. "So, Hermione, you don't know anyone on the Floo network here, by any chance, do you?"

"No, unfortunately not." She bit her lip. "Unless…. Christine's friend's old aunt might still be connected. I could find out. Let me call Christine."

Ron and Harry took stools next to the counter while Ginny cleaned up the glass from the kitchen floor and Hermione called her roommate. "Christine? Sorry to call again, but…oh not the whipped cream again! Christine!...ok, fine, I'll hold…(she's cleaning up)…." Hermione walked around into the living room and picked up Harry's cloak as she sat on hold. She just shook her head and handed it back to him. "Amazing how many adventures that's taken you on, isn't it? Oh, Christine, you're back…yes, yes I'm sorry, I….ok…sure, now listen. Do you know if Paul's old aunt whatever is still on the Floo network?...yes please ask him…oh she is! Oh that's wonderful. Does he think she'd let us use it?...oh that's wonderful! Tell him to ask her if tonight is ok…thanks! And yes, I'm very sorry about interrupting. Again." Hermione hung up, smiling.

Ron looked particularly happy. "Good. No more airplanes."

"But Ron, I thought you loved all things muggle!" Harry slapped him on the back.

"Not things that could fall from the sky and make me into a pancake, no."

Hermione walked around and hugged Ron tightly. "I appreciate you flying here to get me."

Ron hugged her back and kissed her on the forehead. "Anything for you Hermione. You know that." They kissed for the first time in front of their friends and didn't notice when Harry and Ginny linked pinkies.

That night at the Burrow, Mrs. Weasley performed spur-of-the-moment-dinner-party-magic, inviting several of Hermione's old friends and new Weasley family members and preparing everyone's favorite dishes. Ginny, sitting on one side of Hermione, showed her pictures of sleeping Ron on the plane and told her all about the trip over (leaving out certain private details of course) while Harry told the same story (minus a few personal details) to the twins. Fred was there with Angelina, but George was sitting next to an empty seat. "Mum invited her, but I doubt she'll show up." He seemed very sad, and only cheered up a little when he and Fred told everyone about some new inventions. Mr. Weasley asked Ron and Harry for explicit details of airplane travel, but Ginny intervened to explain about airport security. Bill and Fleurs announced that they were pregnant, shocking everyone except Ginny who had already seen the bulge under her dress. And George fell out of his chair when Katie and Elizabeth walked into the dining room. Ginny squeezed Harry's leg under the table when she saw her brother timidly approach the love of his life and hug her. Elizabeth hugged his leg while her aunt kissed her would-be uncle. Hermione, Angelina, Katie and Ginny took turns gawking at Michelle's ring and asking about her wedding plans. And everyone took turns interrogating Hermione, in the friendliest way possible, about her plans now that she was home.

Home. That was the word. Hermione hadn't felt like she was home in years, and here she was in the company of her adoptive family, her best friends, and her one true love. She had never been happier. Ron glanced at Hermione and saw how alive she looked; glowing and smiling, he felt as he would burst with happiness.

After dinner, Ron looked at Harry, who also looked ecstatic. "Harry, follow me mate." Ron stood up from the table as the girls were clearing the table. He motioned for Harry to follow him outside. There, Fleur and Bill were sitting on the new swing Mr. Weasley had made for Mrs. Weasley and George was playing with Elizabeth as Katie looked on, smiling. Ron turned to his best friend and hugged him. Harry hugged him back and they stood like that until they both felt that the hug was extending too long and someone might notice. "Thanks." Ron looked at Harry and felt himself reddening. "I mean, without you and Gin pushing me, I wouldn't have gone to America…granted Hermione was coming here and all, but still. Thanks. I really owe you."

"It was nothing. We shoulda done it a long time ago. I'm just glad to see you so happy. Its great!" Harry smiled and slapped his friend on the shoulder.

"Well, I just thought I'd thank you and Ginny…" Ron's voice faded as he looked up into the kitchen window and saw Ginny and Hermione looking at them and laughing. "Speaking of which, you and Ginny, I mean, you guys seemed to be pretty close and all-"

Harry felt his body go stiff and tried to loosen his collar from the heat. "Um, well yeah, ya know, back at school-"

"And I just wanted to say, that even though it's a little bit weird seeing you guys back together…its probably the best in the long run."

"Oh, well, yeah." Harry nodded stiffly. "Yeah, she's great. Absolutely fantastic."

"Besides, I figured you'd tell me if something _serious_ was going on between you and my sister, eh?" Ron nudged Harry on the shoulder. "C'mon, mate. Lets go inside."

"Um, yeah." Harry couldn't tell if he was blushing as badly as a Weasley but he had a pretty good idea that he was. Oh well, he certainly wasn't going to tell Ron after that conversation.

"You ok? You look kind of red?" Ginny put her arm around Harry as he came inside. "Yeah, I'm ok. But I think I was right about not telling Ron."

Ginny just laughed and moved her hand down Harry's back until his eyes nearly popped out from surprise. "Ginny! We are in public!"

"Oh stop being such a ninny. Now come into the dining room, my dad wants to make a toast."

In the dining room, the entire Weasley clan and company were gathered around the table. Bill and Fleur were standing next to his father. George had Elizabeth up on his shoulders, next to Katie; his twin was standing next to Katie with his arm around Angelina. Mrs. Weasley was at the opposite end of the table from her husband. Ron and Hermione stood next to Mrs. Weasley with Harry and Ginny to their rights. There were two empty seats honoring the lost Weasleys, Charlie and Percy.

Once everyone was assembled, Mr. Weasley cleared his throat. "I could make a big speech about family and love and how we are all very lucky to have one another, especially such a big group like ourselves." Everyone smiled around the table. "But instead of weighing down the air with heavy words, let me just say this: I love you all and consider myself to be very fortunate to have you all in my house." He looked over at his son Bill. "Bill, congratulations on the baby. I know you two will be very great parents. Fred and George, I'm very proud of you for growing up into two very mature and responsible young men." Small chuckles could be heard around the table. "Ron, your mother and I were stunned, but pleased, to hear what you had done to win Hermione back – who, by the way, we are very glad to have back in our home with us. Ginny, you have amazed us all with your success. And Harry, as always, we owe much to you and will always have a warm bed here for you." Harry looked down at the table and blushed. Ever since he'd met the Weasleys, they'd always been so nice to him, and he'd picked up the annoying habit of blushing. "So, to all my children – natural and surrogate – to family!" Mr. Weasley raised his glass, followed by everyone else.

Ron looked at Hermione and kissed her. "We finally did it."

"Yep. Looks like our past finally caught up with us."

"That it did." They kissed again as everyone cheered and clanked glasses and drank their wine. Amidst the noise and chatter, Harry and Ginny clanked glasses and exchanged kisses on the cheek; they smiled when no one saw them link pinkies behind their backs.

A/N: I'm finally done! Please read and review and encourage others to do so. I can only improve if I have people leave me comments! 


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